Give us courage for the journey

rainbow in front of Mt. Meru

As the year draws to a close, we need to write one more blog post to wrap things up. It has been one of the most challenging years of our family life – more on that later. But we feel like we are ending this year with hope as we look across the threshold.

We thank God that in Ethiopia, our worst fears were not realized. Somehow, the federal armed forces were able to turn the tide of the war. Gradually the rebel insurrectionist groups were pushed back north away from Addis. By mid-December, two major northern cities were liberated from rebel control. We were greatly relieved to hear that our partner staff members in Dessie were all OK.  They were out of communication completely for 37 days, and the last we had heard, the project manager was trying to prevent the TPLF from stealing the project vehicle. In the end, The TPLF took the LandCruiser on their way out but left everyone unharmed. By December 20, the area of Woldia was also freed – that is one of our major project sites for agriculture and watershed rehabilitation.

The reports coming back from project areas are of devastation and destruction. The regional governments are still struggling to get back on their feet and to prioritize relief and recovery work. But all our partners working in the north are poised to start providing humanitarian assistance as soon as they get the official green light. Millions of people from Amhara, Afar, and Tigray remain displaced and need food and shelter. Some of the assistance will be cash payments to help displaced people return home and try to rebuild their lives. We also pray that we will be able to continue supporting much-needed agriculture projects—it looks to be a year with many food shortages coming up due to the destruction of crops in the north and a missed planting season.

David holding a chicken in the barn
on our compound

The other big issue is that with every story that is coming out about the killings, rape, and destruction that happened in the war zones, ethnic hatred and distrust threaten to keep growing. We pray that there may be a way forward for a national dialogue about the past and present, with some means to find a way to live together in an ethnically diverse country.

So, all that to say, the news from Ethiopia is not exactly good. But it is not as bad as it could have been. Our staff and partners are all safe and well. Addis is safe and life goes on as normal there. School will re-open in person in late January (God willing and Covid not rising). And that has allowed us to feel like we could dare to enjoy the time we have in Arusha.

It’s true, we had to continue to supervise the kids’ online school program right up until December 23. We made the best of it by going up to Gymkhana each morning, so that we could still have a sense of routine, and leave the house for school and work. The kids joined us for exercise most times and then got on their computers to work through lessons. We had a good space to spread out and keep up with our work, too – meeting with our team online, preparing the next year’s budget, reviewing reports, and approving fund requests. It’s easy to start to take Gymkhana for granted, but really, it is an idyllic informal office. The pool and gym and hot showers are right there. In the mornings, no one else is around except Nora, my friend the cleaner.  

School and lunch at Gymkhana

At lunchtime, Paul and I could take a 35-minute walk around the beautiful, green golf course and talk through work issues or life questions. We could have our online meetings out on the shady, breezy golf terrace. It’s good to remember what an incredible privilege it has been to have access again to this gorgeous green space. Our former colleagues Lucia and Chrispin have also been members at Gymkhana this past year. We enjoyed meeting them and Lucia’s kids a few times there for lunch or after work.

We also made the most of chances to reconnect with church friends and enjoy some recreation here. Our friend and CFGB colleague Neil Miller invited us over one Saturday morning to be part of an informal jam session. He plays the mandolin, his wife Christy sings, as does Paul, I had my guitar, another woman brought her flute, and we were joined by a young couple who are marvelous musicians – she plays the fiddle and he the guitar. We played music across the spectrum, from Christmas carols to Proud Mary to Mr. Bojangles to the Water is Wide. It was truly a delightful time!

Kids playing, adults talking at Simba Farm

Our big adventure came the week before Christmas. Two friend-families had made plans to go camping at Simba Farm Lodge for three nights. We hurried the kids through their weeks’ worth of school assignments so that we could join the camping from Thursday afternoon to Saturday. Simba Farm is located on the arable high slopes of West Kilimanjaro, right at the bottom of that belt of clouds that usually shrouds the mountain, and it always gets a lot of rain. We were a bit apprehensive about camping in the mud, but honestly, we got lucky and had very little actual rain.

Oren and friends

We found another newer ex-pat family (new Young Life staff) already there at the Farm, staying in one of the cottages, and so in total, there were 14 teens who all knew each other and got along really, really well. They played a lot of informal volleyball and board games and ran around playing tag in the dark both nights. All of their good interactions freed us adults to enjoy good conversation in the beautiful gardens around a fire pit, or at the table after a good dinner of farm-fresh food.

We did all the great things you can do camping – waking up at dawn, cooking masses of pancakes over two tiny burners, taking long walks along beautiful farm lanes, alone or in good company, admiring the colorful rows of fresh lettuce and herbs and rhubarb. It was a very special and peaceful time up there.

P & R at the Farm

We returned to a busy Christmas week. I led the worship service on that 4^th Sunday of Advent and was so blessed by a marvelous music team to help us worship (many of the same folks from that jam session). Singing “O come all ye faithful” accompanied by cello, mandolin, guitar, trumpet, and piano was truly a gift. After church, we had an extra choir rehearsal to prepare for the Carols service on the 22^nd. The ACC choir is a very unique entity – you never know who will be singing for the event until the second to last rehearsal! Paul and I had been to all the choir practices in December, with maybe 6 other people. But by the week of Christmas, we were up to 20 singers, most joining at the last minute. Well, to paraphrase Rumsfeld,  you go to worship with the choir you have!

In honor of COVID-19, the Carols by candlelight service was held outside in the ACC courtyard once again. Actually, it’s wonderful to be outdoors in the warm season, as long as it doesn’t rain. There is no way to keep candles lit, but still, there was a wonderful sense of being together singing in the semi-dark the whole time. A dozen brass players spiced up the congregational carols and the choir pieces came together quite well. Towards the end of the service, the wind got a bit wild, and we thought we might get a downpour. But we made it through “Silent Night – Peace, Peace” with great collective joy and no drenching.

R with Jessica and Wendy, fellow 
worship committee co-chairs

After the service we were able to share a late dinner with our wonderful volunteer choir director, Dr. Wendy. She left the country definitively on Christmas Eve, and it was very special to have that time with her to learn more about her life and work before she came to Tanzania, just as she was leaving. And then we had to head home for Oren to finish a Psychology assignment that was due at midnight (!!!).

By the end of the day on Dec 23, all the school work was in and we were super ready to start the Christmas holidays the next day. Christmas Eve was quiet, with just our family. Our tiny little 2 ft tree was lit and decorated in the corner. A handful of Bengali jute angels were dangling from a paper star garland, tokens from my own childhood in the tropics. We had four Advent candles burning, waiting to light the Christ candle in the morning. The stockings were dangling from a hook and a little bit of board with care. No mantle! But there was a certain amount of familiarity with Christmas here in Arusha – it was the fifth time we’ve celebrated in this living room.

Oren and David spent some time jumping on the trampoline together – it’s good they can entertain each other a little because all the other neighbor kids were off at the beach for Christmas week. We made an enormous batch of cinnamon rolls. Oren insisted that we work on a double-double batch – and then he went out to complete his Christmas shopping with Paul. Anyway, David and I were left to figure out how to realize this massive Cinnamon roll vision. We were thinking of so many of David's school lessons from this past month, How do you multiply fractions by 4? And can you sympathize with the parable of the Kingdom as a powerful baker woman working a little yeast through 22 ½ gallons of flour… We didn’t have quite that much, but we each worked on a double batch and each needed 15 cups of flour in the end. There was a point when David and I looked at each other and said… “we’re gonna need a bigger boat….” (ref. Jaws) It was tough work to do that much kneading, but we made it. It was good to have lots of cinnamon rolls to give out in church and to friends the next day. And as Oren was hoping, there were still a few left for us to enjoy during the 12 days of Christmas.

Later in the afternoon, I had a chance to talk with my parents, and then we settled down to listen to “A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols” from King’s College in Cambridge. That is a special Christmas tradition for me, to sit quietly, read the texts, listen to the amazing choral presentations, and just meditate again on the message of Christmas.

One old French Christmas carol really caught my attention this year; I’d never really pondered the text before, but it is beautiful poetry. And the Kings College Choir sang it with perfection. Next, we sat down to a family dinner of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. And then we polished off the evening with our family tradition of watching the Polar Express.

In the morning, we woke early to have a Christmas Eve call with Paul’s parents and brother’s family, who were all gathered in Nashville. It was great to see their Christmas Eve surroundings there, all bundled up in blankets. We had a few gifts for each other and we opened stockings. And then we headed to church, to help lead the music for the Christmas Day service.

River Trees on Christmas Day

Our big Christmas Day event was to meet good friends from our family bible study at River Trees Lodge for lunch. It’s always a beautiful place to sit for hours, under the shade of huge trees, with the lawns stretching out with space for kids to run around and throw a frisbee. I guess some part of me misses the tradition of a white Christmas, gathering around the fire, having hot chocolate, etc. But I have gotten very used to and appreciative of warm Christmases, sitting in the sun, enjoying a good salad, and relaxed outdoor time.

David with Nay's family and cows

Another highlight of our past week included a Boxing Day visit to the family home of our housekeeper, Nay. We played a few rounds of Uno with her kids and some of their cousins—a great cross-cultural game. Nay very graciously prepared a spicy rabbit curry and pilau. We brought a big tray of cinnamon rolls, which her kids were very happy to devour. It is really a great feeling to be able to sit with her and her husband and have easy conversation in Swahili for a long time. I look forward to the time when we can do that in Amharic! After eating and visiting, we took a little walk around the surrounding land. As always, a variety of fruit trees were thriving in their plot, and two dozen varied hens seem to lay lots of eggs daily.

Nay and Ezra with David

Nay’s Mother-in-law lives nearby, just beyond a beautiful vegetable garden that Nay’s husband is cultivating. Abraham is a real farmer, who just loves growing things. He has filled his mother’s compound with fruit trees. Two young healthy heifers were added to the household this year, and sometime next year they will start producing milk. Mama Abraham was so proud to show us her cows, her garden, her house, and happy to have her grandchildren all around. 

Oren exploring the farm

As we left, Nay mentioned that Abraham’s uncle wants to sell the vegetable garden land, probably to someone who wants to build a suburban home. It’s true that big cinderblock houses are springing up all around what used to be a village neighborhood. This news made me sad – right now, Abraham and his family are able to put together a pretty good life, between his job and lots of diverse agricultural activities. But what will they do when it seems more profitable to sell this good, arable land to middle-class developers? Where will they go? How long will the money from the land last? What will they do when it runs out and they have no more land to farm?

Katambuga House Pool

We have taken a few holiday days. One of those days allowed Paul and me to take an overnight away without the kids – the Taylors watched over them. We went to a tiny boutique hotel (that gave us a good deal) on the west side, where we were virtually the only guests. They had naturally charming grounds, with a lovely little pool. Tasty evening hors d’oeuvres were carried out to us there as we watched the sunset clouds fold and unfold around the peak of Mt. Meru. White-fronted bee-eaters dove into the pool after insects and then perched on a nearby tree. A partial rainbow formed against the mountain clouds. After sunset we were treated to an exquisite dinner, again, completely alone. And then we sat alone in the lovely, comfortable lounge in front of a crackling fire. It was a good time to take stock of this year together and think back through all that we have shared so far in 18 years. An early swim and breakfast the next morning were equally lovely.

David and Paul play golf

We have also been back to Kili Golf a few times in these weeks. On one day, David actually played 9 holes with Paul and Mike, and did quite well. He seems to have a natural talent. Oren had a chance to hang out with his friend Harry. And I had time to walk the perimeter of the golf course alone, spotting birds, identifying five new ones in one day. It is such a pleasure to walk alone in nature without fear and enjoy the present joys of this environment.

 This morning, the last day of the year, we were back at Kili Golf, just Paul (to golf with Mike) and me. I took a final walk for the year, really praying about how to have the courage to face what will be coming in 2022. I walked up to an artificial high point in the course, and the early morning air was so sharp that I could see all the features of Mt. Meru in clear relief. It seemed to me that I could spot Mariakamba Hut on the lower slopes, and Saddle Hut, just below little Meru peak. The sheer cliff crater bowl of the old volcano was terrifyingly evident. And I thought, well, I have been up there. And then I turned 90 degrees to look at Kilimanjaro. It was mostly shrouded with clouds, but peaking through a small gap in the clouds, the glaciers of the summit gleamed. We were up there, too, just six months ago. It was encouraging to stand on that one high point, and remember back.

Mt. Meru from Kili Golf
(you should have seen it through the binoculars!)

2021 has been quite a year. By January 1 last year, our old office was closed, our old job was finished and we were in the midst of handover. We were looking ahead to a year of non-stop transition and challenge. We couldn’t imagine how we would get through it all. By the end of January, Paul had left for Ethiopia to start our new life there. From February to May, we mostly lived and worked in separate places, single-parenting and living a divided life, between what was (here in Arusha) and what was yet to be (in Addis). Leaving this life in Tanzania was very, very hard, and it was good to have time in the US in July to recover and reset. Moving into our new community in Ethiopia has been hard work, it’s true, but we have found a warm welcome there. Still, it takes time to know others and be known, to really feel part of a community. We were putting in the time and effort, but then the conflict interrupted us all. Leaving Addis so abruptly, the ground shifted under our feet again in a year of never-ending transitions. This final month of 2021 in Arusha has been a blessing in disguise, but it will be hard to leave a place we love once more. So it’s good to know that God has provided the resilience we needed to get through all that this past year has brought. And we trust that we will find God provides all the courage we need for whatever we face in 2022.