http://globalurbantrek.intervarsity.org/trek-2010/track-the-trek
I also wanted to give those of you who haven't read my summary from my trip to Ethiopia 2 years ago a chance to look at what I felt like I learned from that experience (sorry if it's too long!). I found it fascinating as I was re-reading it because of the things that I had forgotten about which I was reminded of. Enjoy...
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“I looked around as Bereket spoke in Amharic and I saw faces of children. But beyond those faces are futures, hopes, and dreams. As I saw Beck explaining that this was our last day, I began to get sad, which was a new emotion for me at my work site. I’ve been frustrated, angry, happy, confused at what purpose I served with these kids—but today I see souls that are beautiful beyond comprehension. Their peaceful eyes and subtle smiles as they answer questions about faith from Bereket are ones that I hadn’t paused to see in earlier days. Two boys in the front row smiled as I handed them small fragments of chalk. They doodled on their desk for awhile before one slowly erased the remnants, and then sketched out a “B” and “r.” He paused, looked at his friend, and then continued. He finished by writing an “e,” “n,” “d,” “a,” and finally an “n.” I smiled and gave a thumbs up, silently appreciating the simple gesture of writing my name in chalk.
I will never forget these kids. I won’t see the important events in their lives. I won’t be there when they make mistakes in life or when great things happen to them. I won’t be there to tell them “ZIMBALLU!” (Silence!) or “TEGAMET!” (Sit down!), but I’m okay with that. For right now, praying for them is enough for me.”
--My journal entry in the last week of my 6-week trip to Ethiopia
Eight months ago, as I sat on an airplane over the Atlantic Ocean after a six week mission trip in Ethiopia, I began pondering the things that I had seen, heard, and learned. I had seen homeless beggars, disease and sickness, and unfathomable poverty. Yet I had seen jubilant worship, kindness, and God’s hand in desperate situations. I had heard cries of despair, anger, and demonic spirits. Yet I had heard shouts of praise, wonderful Ethiopian voices, and children’s laughter. And the lessons I learned? Frustration began to surface as I realized that I wasn’t sure entirely what I learned.
There was one thing that I, and many of my companions on the trip, could say for certain: our expectations were shattered. I came into the mission trip with the same mindset as is so customary in the American society. I pondered what I could do, who I could help, how I would have a life-changing experience. Sure, I gave God some part in what might happen, but for the most part, it was how I, as a mere mortal, could make a difference in people’s lives. I envisioned the arrival of myself and my travel-mates to start a 6 week journey that encompassed touching lives, spreading the word of the Gospel, and returning home changed forever. Before I left, my friend Jobin would joke to me and say, “So are you excited to go and save the world?” Though we would both laugh, that vision of “saving the world” through a 6 week trip set up unrealistic expectations for the trip—it was pretty tough not too.
Though some of my preconceived ideas happened, they occurred in a much different, more subtle way. Let me start at the beginning, though.
When I was presented the opportunity to go on this trip during an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship event on campus nearly 16 months ago, I nearly ruled it out as a possibility. Four thousand dollars and 6 weeks in Africa? I don’t know if that’s for me, I thought. My leader, Rachel, thought otherwise and continued to throw subtle hints my way that she thought I should go. So as I mulled it over during Christmas break, I began to see the benefits of the trip. I had always wanted to do a mission trip since I was in junior high, the people that were going were really enjoyable, and I thought that this would be a great way to grow my faith.
So after deciding to go on the trip, I filled out forms, got my immunizations (which seemed less painful than the forms), attended team-building events, and fundraised the $4000 necessary to travel from generous donors like yourselves. As the departure date approached, the expectations and excitement grew.
We arrived in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia, around 3 in the morning, so we were ready to get our 4 hours of sleep before we had to get up and see the city. As we drove to Mekane Yesus seminary where we would stay for 6 weeks, it seemed that everyone was staring outside. The airport and shopping centers faded away as we entered the poorer area of the capital and rows and rows of tin shacks began to take their place. “Well, this is it. We’re really here,” I said quietly, as the surrealism of the trip dissipated. The next day we were sent out on our own in small groups of 3 or 4 in order to get to know each other better and “map out” the city by finding certain landmarks. Since no one was fluent in Amharic (the native language) but we all knew that pointing was universal, we began to gesture and say the landmarks’ names in a question form: “Medical center?” Occasionally, we followed directions to go a certain way…until we realized we had ended up in a back alley in a foreign area. There was an interesting dynamic to the city; one of my friends made an interesting comment as we wandered: “In America, the nice houses are out in the open and the “ghettoes” are hidden. Here it’s the opposite. You see homeless people and tin shacks everywhere.”
One of the biggest things I noticed on our escapade around the city was the poverty—more specifically, the physical deformities and illnesses. I wrote in my journal: “The frequency of those with physical disabilities began to increase exponentially it seemed: Blindness, hands and fingers that were so swollen and tight that they were unable to open, and legs inoperable that forced men, women, and children to use only their arms to propel themselves forward.” As we walked by beggars, we were told not to give a lot of money to them, as this actually was just a temporary solution to a much bigger problem. As the days went by, I became more accustomed to the beggars, but I wouldn’t say I became comfortable with them. During the trip, I witnessed more begging and disabled homeless people than I had ever seen in a lifetime growing up in northwest Iowa. I still remember two people vividly: one man whose face had lost all elasticity and skin had “oozed” down his face and a woman whose eye socket had not developed properly which caused her eye to nearly be on the side of her face. The issues of the sick, the homeless, and the poor were continually on our minds and in our prayers throughout our trip.
Getting around the capital city soon became a lot easier with the arrival of our Ethiopian roommates a few days later. Each American student was paired with an Ethiopian student, and they stayed with each other for about 5 weeks—enough time to get to know each other and cultures very well. This was a great experience, because it stretched many of the predetermined thoughts we had about how the Ethiopians would act, think, etc., and vice versa. I remember one conversation that I had with my roommate and his friend about how they thought the American students would all need a bountiful amount of help with things like carrying luggage, getting around town; they were surprised to find that we were actually quite capable! Our American assumptions that they would all be relatively poor and would be much spiritually inclined were slightly off. Many of them had mp3 players or cameras and were not as underprivileged as we thought, and while they were very spiritual, they had the same struggles as many of the American students. One thing we all had in common, though, was a passion for doing God’s work in Ethiopia! The Americans also learned some cultural nuances as well, one of which was “gusha,” an act of hand-feeding a friend at the table to show respect. We fell in love it—I can’t even count how many times we yelled “GUSHA” and stuffed a ball of anjera (a spongy, sourdough bread that looked like a pancake) and beef in someone else’s mouth.
A few days after the Ethiopians arrived, we were assigned to our work sites, which was where we spent all of Monday, Wednesday, and half of Tuesday and Thursday. Some of the students worked at an adoption agency that was designed to have students adopted by American families while some worked at an orphanage where they taught classes, played with the kids, and most importantly showed love. Another group worked with Win Souls, a great organization to house and feed the homeless and former prostitutes. The work site that 5 other people and I went to was a public school where about fifty Compassion International children attended.
When we first arrived at the Compassion International site, the director of the program explained to us what Compassion did, as well as what we would be doing. When he informed us that we would be teaching classes to the children, I assumed that we would teach alongside a normal teacher. I soon found that I was slightly off: the six of us students would be teaching four different age groups—by ourselves. I wasn’t teaching math, but I could figure out that four age groups minus the three Ethiopians in our work site group equaled one non-native speaking teacher. The first day that we taught the children was both exciting and amazingly confusing. The person who had to teach by himself on the first day was me. So, to say that I was nervous about teaching biology in English to students who didn’t speak English is an understatement. The first couple of days were pretty rough: there was a lot of hand gesturing and slow speaking from both myself and the students. Eventually I came to the realization that me being in the classroom was less about teaching them about biology and more about having fun and getting to know the kids. This insight led to a much more relaxed atmosphere with soccer, marbles, and teaching the kids the “Father Abraham” song. Over the days, I came to understand the kids much better without comprehending all of their words.
Even so, there was a still a sense of uncertainty in what we were accomplishing in Ethiopia in many of the Ethiopian and American students’ hearts, including mine. What were we doing that was worth us traveling halfway across the world? Were we doing God’s work? These were some of the questions that we had about halfway through the trip. It wasn’t as if we were regretting the trip, but many of us, myself included, expected amazing things to happen frequently. When I didn’t see sight restored to the blind or many children asking about Jesus, I got fearful that I was useless. I remember many conversations I had during and after the trip while trying to sort out my emotions.
Robel, one of the Ethiopian leaders, always had others on his mind and was always concerned with how people were doing. One night he knocked on my door, sat down, and asked how I was. After describing my confusion at my work site, he told me the story about when he was a mechanical engineer student. When metal was super heated, it must be hammered into submission and dipped into cold water—which is “surely uncomfortable.” In the end, the metal cools and is “super strong.” “Perhaps this will happen to you,” he said. An InterVarsity area director, Jon Hietbrink, sat down with me after the trip and asked me how things were going after getting back to the States. I admitted that I still struggled with determining the exact purpose of the trip, and was trying to incorporate things I witnessed in Ethiopia into my life in Iowa.
He listened quietly, and then responded. “After reading a few of the team’s emails and listening to the same frustrations, I thought and prayed about the same questions you had. What were you suppose to learn? You chose to spend half of your summer in Ethiopia, and it can’t be for nothing!” he said, pausing to offer a possible answer. “What if the reason that you went over was simply obedience? Obedience to God by choosing to follow where He called you to go?” I hadn’t thought about the trip like that before. Was it simply just to demonstrate that I wanted to really be completely “entrusting” to God? It provided a sense of comfort to know that even if I wasn’t sure of the reason for it, my trip definitely served a purpose.
About a month ago, I was getting ready for church and thinking again of the trip to Ethiopia and about how I needed to write this summary letter. I wasn’t entirely sure of a way to do it, so I put off thinking about it until after church. The sermon in church that day just happened to be about Hebrews 11:8-14, which talks about the faith that Abraham had during the course of his life.
As the pastor explained the passage, it dawned on me that it described very well my trip to Ethiopia. This passage is about waiting: waiting for something that is longed for. I clearly had my own desires for the trip—maybe it was a desire to see something great or to have a greater purpose and do well for other people. However, in Colossians in the Bible it says to keep the mind on heavenly things, just as Abraham did when he was called by God to travel to a foreign land and obeyed.
As I listened to the pastor speak, I took away four things about my trip that were just like Abraham and his trip to a foreign land:
The trip was something that came from God because of the longing and desire he instilled in me, just like Abraham traveled to a foreign land (verse 8). I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but because of the longing in my heart, I went anyways.
The longing I had was something that could not simply be satisfied by earthly things. The desire to do God’s work was not satisfied when I taught children or gave money to the poor. Though I didn’t realize it then, I was being reminded that this world is not my permanent place (verse 9-10). So while I work wholeheartedly to do what I can in this world, I know that any desire I have to change this world will not be satisfied…yet.
Abraham and Sarah were convinced that God had plans and would be faithful, so as time went on, their longing to do God’s call swelled (verse 11-12.) Similarly, my desire to do God’s work increased the longer I was over there, as well as after I came back home. As I saw the possibilities of what God has in store for me, I began to want to do more for him. Whether it be raising awareness of AIDS or hunger in my community or serving the poor as a doctor in Africa in the future, I just know that I know want a bigger role in his plan here on earth.
Finally, the desire and longing to do more will only be satisfied by God–not by my own actions. Even if I work as a doctor in Ethiopia, but that’s not God’s purpose, I will still not be satisfied; Obedience is the key to doing His will. Even then, I may still not find what I’m hoping for. Just as Abraham did not receive his blessings here on earth (verses 13-14), I do not know when the promises will be fulfilled. I do know, though, that God is the One who can fulfill them.
When I look back on the Ethiopia trip and try to encapsulate or sum up what I saw, heard, and learned, it feels like trying to understand how big the universe is. I’ve learned to take everything I experienced for what it was: the poverty and disease in the city, the kindness and faith of the Ethiopian people, the hope of a bright future of the Compassion students. I did not change the world with my words, I did not solve the poverty crisis in six weeks—heck, I didn’t even figure out how to eat the native food the proper way for at least a week! What I did find was a desire to pray, think, read, talk, and learn more about poverty and the things that I can do. Though I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what God wants me to learn, it’s a start. And I’m okay with a start.
God Bless,
Brendan George
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