The close of a season

A congregation of Lovebirds at Kili Golf

On another airplane. We are just one week out of 2021 hanging in the aerial borderland, between our Tanzania displacement and “normal life” back in Addis. Will the short flight be sufficient to recognize the frontier we are crossing? It’s good to try for at least a short entry as we crossed the threshold into 2022.

We spent a festive evening with the Taylor family on New Year’s Eve, enjoying a great cookout dinner and a round of their traditional holiday “Name Game.” It’s great to spend time with friends who feel like family. They left before midnight, just to be safe on the roads, but we stayed up long enough to hear the cheers and fireworks around our neighborhood and to catch the midnight scent of newly blooming citrus trees wafting into our veranda. One of the local Verreaux’s eagle-owls was perching nearby, hooting softly as I fell asleep, like the hovering voice of the Holy Spirit.

Mt. Meru from the road at Atomic, Jan 1

We woke early somehow – I guess when you’re used to greeting the dawn, it’s just what you always do! It was a glorious clear morning, perfect for a little 5 km jog down the road to Atomic. I am not much of a jogger, but in our Tanzania neighborhood, we’ve got a perfect quiet straight road, with a good sidewalk, and it feels good to stretch the lungs that way, even when I’m pushing 50. Both mountains were perfectly clear on that first morning of the year, the whole profile of Kilimanjaro angling up to the Shira Plateau, curving up and over Kibo, and then jutting up again at the lower Mawenzi peak. It was a morning for joy, and to be reminded again that courage will be given.

In the afternoon, we joined the Taylors at their house for an online gathering of the Renew Community. Katie was one of the only retreat organizers who was not suffering from viral illness. 

Us watching ourselves leading a recorded
worship song online for Renew

Earlier in the week, we had helped the Taylors record some worship music and an interview about our past year, as elements of the virtual gathering. It was a very nurturing time to think about how to cultivate joy, even in the midst of difficulty and change. Our speaker, Kip, offered us good insights into Psalm 103, a psalm of great praise. We left the gathering determined to “forget not all his benefits” and so this first week of 2022 has been one of working on gratitude.

We had one more Sunday at our Arusha church, where several marvelous musician friends were leading the worship music. Megan needed to play cello and sing, and so I had the honor of holding her 1-year-old daughter. I’m not usually the one who “holds the baby” but holding that child was an entire sermon to me. I wondered if Jesus might have been a lot like her, calm, curious, trusting, and falling asleep in my arms as I was singing and rocking her. It’s quite something to meditate on how ‘the word became flesh’ when you are holding an infant.

the top of Kili from the road near our house

After church,  Paul stayed longer to facilitate one more training session on how to lead Sunday school for a group of new teachers. It feels like he has done this training at least two previous times, trying to pass on his experience before we left – but then Sunday school had to be canceled each time due to rising COVID cases. We pray that the third time will be the charm and that the church will be able to offer Christian education to children once more. Families are certainly hungry for this.

In the afternoon, the Taylors dropped off all four of their kids at our house for a sleepover, so that we could return the favor to them, and give them a day away as a couple, just as they did for us at the end of December. They have such fun kids and it was very easy to hang out with them for 24 hours. Towards evening, we got everyone out of the house for some exercise to throw the frisbee down at the field on the En Gedi compound. 

Frisbee on the field

By the end of an hour we had gathered 18 people, mixed adults and youth, Joshua school teachers and neighbor kids, Tanzanians and Wazungu playing a huge game of frisbee monkey-in-the-middle, with 3 monkeys at a time. Again, I was super thankful for this compound, where there is such freedom and space and the ability to share in a community of mixed cultures. The kids pitched in to help get dinner ready and then to help clean up, and we all enjoyed watching Kung Fu Panda II, one of Oren’s favorites. 

Kids hanging out

Luckily, our couches all have detachable mattress bases, so we had plenty of beds on the floor and then put up a tent for the girls to have a mosquito net in their room. Halfway through the next afternoon, the Taylors came back to pick up their kids, having had a really nice time away together. It often takes years to build up friendships where you can swap each others’ kids, and so we were all really glad we could do this for each other during our time back in Arusha. It’s also good that work things were slower on both sides of the ocean – for Western New Year and for Ethiopian Christmas – and so it was a good time to take some holidays.

Myers and Mosley families together

About 15 minutes after the Taylors all left, our Addis next-door neighbors (the Myers family) rolled in from Moshi by taxi for a 2-day visit. As we wrote before, they left shortly before us to come to stay in a friends’ house in Moshi. We had one opportunity to see them in December and really wanted to have a little time to visit before we returned to Ethiopia. It was nice to show them a little more of what we have loved about our life in Tanzania. We took them to Gymkhana one afternoon for swimming, squash, and just hanging out. We played “the Name Game” with them and took strolls around the compound. In particular, we spent many hours sitting in our covered veranda talking. They treated us to sharing their traditional English Christmas pudding, flames, and all. They have some visa complications to work through before they will be able to return to Addis, so we are not quite sure when we will see each other again. Hopefully, it will not be too many more weeks before we can share drop-in neighborly visits back in our other country. 

High water at Lake Duluti

On Wednesday afternoon, our family had a little opportunity to pay a visit to Lake Duluti –we’d had a wonderful time with friends, but it had also been intensive social time. We all needed a few hours in nature to pair off. Paul took David to test the fishing –they saw a huge crawfish, but didn’t catch any real fish. The water seems to be increasingly high, and it’s tough to find spots to fish from. We found a few of the favorite spots to sit on a bench overlooking the lake. Now the lake had risen so high that the bench was the only path. Oren and I circled the lake and talked. We really needed that time to check in, to talk over his feelings about returning to Ethiopia, and to think about what could make the transition more positive. We also talked a lot about movies – one of Oren’s favorite pastimes – and marveled at encounters with various huge monitor lizards, slapping along the path ahead or slithering down the bank into the water.  

David fishing

Thursday was a serious packing day for me. Fortunately, Oren’s old school friend Abraham came over for a visit and kept him company, while David always loves playing with the En Gedi neighbor kids. In the afternoon, we enjoyed one more ultimate frisbee match. There is nothing that beats running around a field chasing a disc for stress relief! We gathered with the missionary neighbors at dusk around a bonfire for a “sausage sizzle” and salads, for prayer and closure with this welcoming and nurturing community. Again we were so thankful for how well a tough situation worked out for us, allowing us to come back “home” and even stay in our old home, reconnect with old friends and taste a bit of our old life again. It was a gorgeous evening together.

Kids playing board games at Kili Golf

There were a whole lot of issues we had to deal with on Friday: including replacing a stolen backpack from the secondhand market, getting one or two last gifts for staff, and most concerningly, going back to the hospital where we did our COVID tests to follow up on my results. We’d gone off to do the tests on Wednesday morning, and on Thursday the results came back for everyone but me. For better or for worse, we’d chased PCR results before so we knew who to talk to and where to find him in the big hospital complex. He was friendly and playful and said he would have the results back for us within hours. We followed up on the phone several times Friday afternoon. Nothing.

Paul golfing

But we didn’t want to let a bureaucratic hassle ruin our last evening in Arusha. Paul has really enjoyed playing golf again with Mike, and so he planned one last round of 18 holes for Friday afternoon. He got started earlier. The rest of us convened at the clubhouse when school was out for their kids, for cool drinks and board games and a stroll around the course. It was a perfect way to wrap up our time in Arusha, taking in the green space and wide vistas. We shared dinner and one last round of good conversation as the sun set and darkness fell.

The only major problem we encountered at the end was my PCR certificate. I kept expecting to see it on my phone first thing this Saturday morning. But no such luck. We kept phoning Mr. Nanga to say “BADO!” – Not yet received! And he kept saying, “give me another 15 minutes!” Paul was not amused at all by the thought of heading back to Addis and online school without me. It was an extremely stressful morning. At about noon, I sent out a desperate prayer request to a bunch of people and started rearranging the packing, so that if I were forced to stay behind, I would at least have two suitcases with a few clothes, shoes and my swimsuit (not just the suitcases of tea and Christmas ornaments). At 12:50 the results finally came through and we were able to ask a friend to print them so that we could pick them up on our way to the airport at 2 pm. We’d already run out of time to use our borrowed car—it was getting washed so we could leave it in good shape for our super generous friend. Anyway, all’s well that ends well and emergency prayers were answered.

One of my favorite acacia trees
in the morning light

I will remain very grateful for another 6 weeks of long walks or jogs down to Atomic (I fit in one last one with Oren early this morning). For early morning prayer walks around the compound with the sun slanting in through the trees while pairs of lovebirds shrieked joyfully overhead, streaking through like emerald arrows . For an entire season of breathing in the wonderful scent of Spanish cedar flowers whenever I walked past the Joshua Foundation office. They had just started blooming prolifically at the beginning of Advent down near the tent site and ended their celebration of tiny flowers this past week on the 12^th day of Christmas. Their season has passed through and concluded, perfectly synchronized with the season we also spent in their presence, and now it is time to move on to a new season. Of challenge? Of Joy? Probably much of both.

 

 

Kilimanjaro (Kibo and Mawenzi peaks) from the plane
on our way out of Tanzania

 

Scarlet-chested sunbird

David playing monopoly with the girls

David perfected his flip this season, landing on his feet 80% of the time

Taylors New Years Eve

Finishing our Christmas puzzle Jan 1

David sharing cuddles with the neighbor cat

I love the bark on this acacia, 
tones of rose and cream

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.  

 

 

Intersecting Time Streams

Our family has been taking a bit of a deep dive into Sci. Fi. literature. I read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus and found that she is (I believe correctly) credited with inventing the genre. After that our family listened to a more recent iteration with Ready Player One, on audiobooks. I thought it might be relatable for the kids because it is an unapologetic adventure romp into a virtual world akin to what Zuckerberg's 'Metaverse' hopes to be. We are now on a book called We are Legion (We are Bob). It is the story of an artificial intelligence, cloned from a real person, who captains an unmanned spaceship and experiences hilarious adventures and hijinx while operating a 'von neumann' spacecraft that can replicate itself so he can explore the whole galaxy. (spoiler alert: all of his replicated personalities turn out not to be clones of his own!)

I mention this by way of preface because we seem to have found ourselves in an eerie kind of parallel universe here--an alternate time stream drama (see Loki). From our last entry, you may know that we have evacuated from Addis and are currently living in Arusha, our old stomping ground. The irony of having left Arusha no less than 6 months ago to move to Addis is not lost on us. It is apparent that we are not the only ones feeling a bit strange by the many double takes we get from people we know, and even street vendors and waiters that see us and stare with a querying confused look on their faces that seems to say "You shouldn't be here, right?"

Fortunately, our Swahili (recently put into deep storage) has been put back into active memory and we find ourselves saying repeatly: Tuliondoka Ethiopia. kwasababu ya hali mbaya sana, vita kubwa. (We left Ethiopia because the situation is bad, there is a big war.) People shake their heads and click their tongues and assure us that there is peace in Tanzania.  

What has made the situation even more surreal is coming back to our old compound where we have been renting tents and waiting for a house of a friend to be vacated. As that led to some complications, the owners of Joshua offered to refurnish our old house and rent it back to us since it was still sitting empty. Long story short, we agreed. So now we are back in our old house in our old compound. 

We have even found that our drivers' licences, local bank cards, and Gymkhana membership are still fully active, so we have effectively stepped completely back into our old life. The fact that we left several suitcases of stuff here for others to bring us just adds to the number of personal things we have here. 

On the good side, we have re-entered our established communities of support. Our small group is still meeting and we were very happy to join them a week ago Sunday. We have also become involved with our old church again. Last week Rebecca and I even played instruments and sang with the music team. We also have joined the Advent choir that meets Wednesday evenings to prepare for a Christmas Lessons and Carols service. 

I cannot say we have not enjoyed visiting many of our old haunts even though it seems very strange. Connecting with old friends has also been very satisfying. We have spent a number of evenings with our friends the Taylors and Oren and David count their two boys as their closest friends. I have been able to go out for a round of golf with Mike and hope to do so every week that we remain in Arusha. (My golf clubs were among the items that we left in Arusha for a future pick-up.)

On our old compound we have also been blessed to find most of the people we left behind are still here. The family in the house next to ours have 2 boys a bit younger than David who love most of the same things he does so they have enjoyed getting filthy as they explore secret places and discover strange fauna. (Hedgehogs mainly, but also another baby owl is nesting in our water tower.) 

On our first Saturday, our next-door neighbor-family took Rebecca and David on a nearby new adventure. They walked all the way down to the end of the paved road (about 3 km) and then down a narrow path of switchbacks into a river canyon. It was quite spectacular with 200 m high steep canyon walls and a rushing, very dirty river. On the opposite bank, a large group of women was washing clothes and goats came down to drink. We walked upstream for a bit and the boys tried their hand at fishing, fell in the water in the process of course, and then ended up swimming. It was fun for our newer neighbors to show us something we'd never done before.

Last Thursday we had one of the residents' potluck dinners that met once a fortnight during our 4 years in Arusha. It was good to reconnect with all of our friends on the Joshua Foundation base, and we enjoyed sitting around a fire pit talking about what has changed in the past 6 months. (There is generally a very good feeling about the new President: Mama Samia Saluhu!) 

Another interesting social event that gave us a chance to catch up with old friends was a Thanksgiving dinner (held the Sunday after Thanksgiving) hosted by some friends of ours, another family from Maryland with 2 kids about Oren's age. It was a big outdoor event, with a lot of familiar faces, who were again supportive and interested to hear about our adventures.

I think the apotheosis of these social events and by far the most surreal (in terms of intersecting time streams) was a gathering I organized last Friday. By way of background, our next door neighbors in Addis, who have rapidly become our closest friends there, the Myers', were required to evacuate and ended up going to Moshi, a town about 1.5 hours from us. Pete and Katy are not entirely unlike Mike and Katie Taylor, our friends here. They are both working with the Anglican church as bible college theological teachers. The Myers are Brits and the Taylors are Aussies. I planned an evening where we could all meet up at a safari resort for dinner middway between Arusha and Moshi. I wanted everyone to meet each other. I find it a bit amusing that it is almost as if we deliberately tried a bit too hard to  'replace' the Taylors with a carbon-copy family in Addis. (Actually it was purely chance that the Myers moved into the house next door.)

We had a very nice evening together, and when it got late, we invited the Myers to come and crash at our newly furnished house (on the first day we were going to sleep there, before we had even been to the store to buy toilet paper!). That was a good thing because on the way back, in the dark, their car broke down (about a quarter kilometer from the Taylors house!). We limped the car over to the Taylors' and left it for the night. We all stayed at our house and had a somewhat chaotic morning with their kids, neighbor kids, dogs, etc, running around in the morning and Pete and I figuring out what to do about the car. 

Fortunately it was running fine the next morning so Pete, his oldest son and I went to AIM mall for some shopping while Katy, Rebecca and the other kids went to a Christmas fair. After a long day they headed back to Moshi that evening.

That same day though, Rebecca and I hosted an ultimate frisbee game on the compound (using the old whatsapp group), and had about 20 people turn out for a very fierce game. David has become another force to contend with as he has shot up and is about as tall as Oren and me!

Work has a certain familiarity to it as we had to do remote work from Arusha to Addis last spring while we waited for the kids to finish school. It has been good to connect with staff almost every day and we have a virtual team meeting every week. It is hard to be away from them and try to find news about the conflict from them and any other source that seems reasonably accurate. 

The big challenge has been the kids returning to online learning for the month of December. (We are praying it is only for this month.) It was pretty much a nightmare trying to do our job in 2020 between March and May when they were online. As parents we had to do a ton of executive oversight to be sure they were keeping up. They are fantastically unmotivated to do assignments online and it takes a fair amount of coersion to keep them on task. In addition, the computer is the place they go for their favorite addictions, and it is hard to monitor every time they switch from work to play. We are looking forward to Christmas break. (And have even pulled together some bits of Christmas paraphenalia to try to decorate the house a bit.)

Situation Update:

In recent days we have heard of a 'turning of the tide' in the conflict with the National Defence Forces finally getting an upper hand having successfully warded off an attack of Addis. This is good news for us and the 8 million residents of the capital. If there had been an actual invasion of Addis, loss of life and property would have been catastrophic. While as pacifists it is hard to say you are on a 'side' in the war, it is our feeling that the best outcome, assuring the continuation of a united Ethiopia, would be that the current (democratically elected) government prevails in this war. A successful coup by the other side would almost certainly result in a Balkanization of the country. I won't say more on this as we presume all our communications are monitored and our organization has a good working relationship with the government. 

Other good news is that the gathering of church leaders we sponsored attracted a number of high level govt. and church officials including the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church, the minister of defense, and mayor of Addis. There was good press coverage as well. Despite many having differing sympathies on the conflict, they did reflect on why the church has not taken a lead role as a peace builder. One of the takeaways was a renewed commitment to be true reconcillers and healers, and not just "entrepreneurs of peace-building". (By the latter I think they meant not just offering trainings in peacebuilding but actually practicing peace.)

Given the current news, we remain cautiously optimistic that we could return to Addis on Jan 8th, after our Christmas break. We have heard that recovery and rebuilding in many of the previously occupied areas may take 30 years after the destruction of infrastructure wreaked by the departing junta. The healing of devastated hearts on all sides of this conflict will also take time and an abundance of God's grace. We expect many of our partners will be focused on recovery work in the years ahead. 

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.