"Jesus killed Mr. H?"

Living here is a bust for keeping pets. In the last four months, we have lost one kitten (taken during the night by who-knows-what), three baby geese (one killed by a cerval cat, two succumbed to unknown illness), one puppy (tick fever), and two chickens (one got sick and died, the other taken by another unknown predator). Our most recent loss was the death of Mr. H, Elsa's beloved rooster and our first addition to the family since moving to Omo.
This was no ordinary rooster. Mr. H followed us everywhere, ate out of the same dish as the dogs, let Elsa and Ezra hang onto his tail feathers and pet his head, and became the chivalrous, doting husband of Mama C when we acquired a hen. Caleb witnessed the amazing Mr. H kill a lizard, cluck twice and stand back while he allowed his new bride to devour the lizard. I'll say it again: this was no ordinary rooster.> Alas, all good things must come to an end. At least, that is how it is along the banks of the Omo River, where getting a pet young and letting it live as a family member well into old age is unheard of. Two nights ago, Mr. H was dragged from his chicken house and taken off to become dinner for some mongoose or wild cat. The next morning, I had to explain to Elsa why Mr. H wasn't coming running as she called for him. Elsa's response? "Jesus killed Mr. H?"
I suppose that is the only logical conclusion to draw when you are two years old and mama tells you that all of your pets...Manny, Brown Sugar Chicken, Raines, and all of the baby geese...have gone to live with Jesus.
Today, we got a new rooster. I know, I know, you'd think that by now we'd have learned our lesson and perhaps passed on the whole pet-business. But...meet H2. You may call him Hummer.

Mango Ubba

I think not being able to communicate much with the people around her has really started to bother Elsa. She seems to sense that she doesn't know the right words to say to be able to make her way around here. Considering how much she loves to talk, I can only imagine how much it irks her to not be able to understand all the other little kids.She's not laying down and playing dead though. Elsa has just decided to combine any Daasanech words she's picked up and put them together, even if we can't quite figure out what it is she is trying to say. Her newest phrase is "Mango Ubba!". She's taken to yelling this at anyone and everyone who comes close, and essentially it just means 'and mango!' or 'also mango!'. I can't imagine what the people think of this little 3 foot high blonde girl yelling 'and mango!' at them. But she's trying. She's trying hard. And she doesn't care what people think of her or what mistakes she's making in the process--she's communicating. And so I'm taking a page from Elsa's books...attempting to take a stab at beginning to learn Daasanech, and to just yell out the words I think I may know. A few times a week the kids and I go back to a house in the village and sit with the main leader in our church (and however many other people may be packed into the house), and I try desperately to figure out, through a little English and a little Amharic and a lot of confusion and miming, what it is they are talking about. I don't know how successful it is, but it's been good for us to at least make a start. So here's to becoming child-like and not being afraid to try...here's to Mango Ubba!

See How The Ferenji Kids Play

Last week the main Daasanech health worker, Girma, was over to our place early one morning to head out with Donna to do a clinic downriver. It was about 7:15 am, the time of day my kids are running around outside, enjoying the cool of the morning, typically dressed in nothing more than that night's sagging diaper. Girma was watching Ezra as he pushed his Tonka truck up and down a sand incline, and Elsa as she ran in circles swinging her arms around. Caleb, who was starting work for the day, overheard Girma as he said to some other Daasanech health extension workers there, "See how the ferenji (foreign) kids play, Daasanech kids only think about their stomachs." How true Girma's words. My kids have the luxury of a childhood, something we think of as a right to a child, while this community of Daasanech parents send their children out at 4 and 5 to watch the goats, haul water, work in the garden, and mind the younger children. A child here has the responsibility of an adult. The thought of the gross discrepancy between the lives of my children and the children all around us has been on my mind over the last few weeks, because I've spent a lot of time lately trying to figure out which kids are closest in age to Elsa and Ezra. I can't figure it out. The ones that look about the same size have eyes beyond my kids' years, and tell a story of an experience far beyond my own 2 year old's life. I don't fault my kids for having a childhood. In fact, I love it, and I want them to have a childhood for as long as possible. And I don't necessarily feel sorry for these Daasanech kids either. I think they have a joy living here, in this community where they know their mothers and fathers and grandfathers and grandmothers, all their cousins and siblings and aunts and uncles, and all live together from birth to death in the same community. I would not impose myself to say that the way my own kids grow up is better than the way that they do.
The gardens are being planted as we speak. Sorghum is the main crop in this area, and because we did not have a full flood this year of the Omo River, the crop will be smaller than it should. We have had rain in the past week, though, unseasonal rain, and it should help their gardens start to take off. Pray for these gardens. Pray for the women as they work them, and the children, too. Pray that there will be a bountiful harvest, so that maybe Girma's words will ring a little less true this year...so the Daasanech children can cease to think about their stomachs, and play like only a child can...arms swinging and bellys full.

Home

Home is where...you fill in the blank. I've heard the saying many different ways--your toothbrush, your pillow, your heart, your shoes. I cannot honestly say how I fill in that sentence. I can't quite say home is where my heart is, because my heart is split between Ethiopia, Atlanta, and Washington. We just returned back to Omo after I spent two weeks in the states for my sister's wedding, and one week in Addis doing shopping for supplies and things before heading south. It was an incredible high to step off the airplane in Addis Ababa and know I was finally back on the same continent and time zone as Caleb and the kids.
As wonderful as it was to be back 'home' in the US, I felt the separation from my family sitting on my chest the whole time.
It is strange though, to have come off the last few months of feeling quite 'home'-sick, and then to go back to the US and miss my other 'home' so desperately, my home that consists of Caleb, Elsa, Ezra, and the life we're building together by the Omo. I think it was good for me, to go back and realize that no matter where I am, I will feel the pull of a different place. That is simply the reality of the kind of life we've chosen. Hard at times, but amazing as well, to be able to call opposite sides of the world 'home' at the same time. To always be leaving home, but to always be going home as well.
So I am home...with my husband, my kids, this world over here.

Joanna in the USA

I'm not going to tell you how long I've been here. Granted, it hasn't been long, but considering the fact that I am leaving in the morning, I defnitely should have taken advantage of the last week of internet access to easily update this blog!

I was informed by my friend Britany that she LOVES the blog, but she finds my habits in updating the blog a tad reprehensible. She did say she would give me a break for the month of August because she said "I know you've been busy". (Her words, not mine! I won't correct her). So I'm coming away from this quick trip with one strong resolve--I will be better about writing more! Britany convinced me that there is at least one person out there who reads it regularly.

I'm jumping ahead. Most of you did not even know I would be in the USA. My beautiful sister, Jonelle, married an amazing man last night.

I landed in Atlanta last Thursday. I was able to spend the weekend with Leah and Tim and my new niece, Isla, before coming out to Washington state on Monday. I loved getting to be with Leah and Tim for the weekend, it was like I had never left the street we both lived on for the four years before we moved to Ethiopia. And their baby is without exaggeration the most precious little girl I have ever met. My kids are unbeatable, but you could never use words like "good", "calm", or "perfect" to describe either Elsa or Ezra. They have kept me up too many nights to give them those particular words. But Isla...she is beautiful. And precious. And I love her.

I came to Washington on Monday and have spent the last week doing all of the crazy wedding business that comes in the last week before a wedding.

It has been a great week of seeing family and friends and getting to be here with my sister and to spend some time with her husband. Coming from my quiet life down at Omo, I've definitely been going hard--they dragged me up Mt. Pilchuck and we water-skiied and did brunch in Seattle and family dinners and wedding rehearsals and more family dinners and lots and lots and lots of pictures. It has all been precious, from getting to see my 2 week old nephew, Benjamin, to seeing one of my nephews play football and another play soccer and most of all to be there to watch as my sister married her best friend.

It has been an eventful and busy week and a half, and tomorrow I head off to start my trip home. I have missed my kids and Caleb so much during this time and I am so ready to be back home with my family. I cannot believe that I have survived this much time without them! Caleb has been very brave to be in charge for two weeks, and Grandma Donna has been a lifesaver to help Caleb every day. Caleb and the kids will meet me in Addis to pick me up from the airport. As much fun as it is to reconnect with family and friends on this side, I am counting the hours to walking off that plane.

Many congratulations to my family here who have all had such momentous events in the last weeks and months...much love to the new babies, Isla and Ben, and to the new journey begun by Jonelle and Aaron.

Samuel and Benjamin Judy (my newest nephew)

oops...

and here is the website...www.elsamorrell.shutterfly.com

New Pictures!

Our photo site has been updated with lots of new pictures. Lots and lots of kid pictures, but also some pics of the progress on our house and other things from around Omo...enjoy!

More Progress!

Rolling out tortillas

Out at the Ridge

The First Soul We Saved

Elsa named him Mr. H...

Elsa Potty Trains Herself, the Walls Go Up, and Ezra Gets His First Haircut

Yes, we've had some monumental happenings here at the Omo. How do you mark
the passage of time in a place where days run together and life melts
between one 'Church Day' and the next? I'll tell you how. You mark it by
accident-free potty days and the progress being made on the house!

Elsa decided to potty-train herself. Or rather, 'dirt-train' herself. Since
the kids go clothing-free here, instead of diapering them, I just put them
in underwear because it is so much easier to clean up a little wet spot than
wash out cloth diapers. So in the last week or so, Elsa decided that she
would take care of business herself by removing her princess panties (thank
you, Aunt Deni!) and taking herself outside--saying, 'it's okay I go pee in
the dirt?' We haven't had an accident since she started doing this on her
own. Who knew potty training could be so easy?

Caleb and Dick are making great progress on our house. The foundation is
finished and the framing for the walls are up. It is so exciting to see our
home take shape before our eyes. We're hopeful that it will be completed by
October.

One last milestone. Ezra got his first haircut. He has been plagued by some
crazy Einstein wings for quite some time now, but I've been hesitant to cut
them off because I didn't want to cut off all his personality! I finally let
Grandma give him a haircut, and she did a great job cleaning him up but
leaving all of his adorable curls in the back. He looks quite grown up.

So we mark time like you do...work gets done, kids do new things, we watch
as our babies reach milestones. Life is taking shape.

Sunday Morning Entertainment

Ez watching a monitor lizard

Elsa's Point of View

"I feel good today!"

We're Here

Four years ago today Caleb and I left Omo together after Caleb spent 6
months volunteering and I came to visit him for 6 weeks before we got
married. Four years...God is faithful.

Our trip went relatively smoothly--despite Caleb having an all-night
vomiting session the night before we left, and despite learning for the
first time that Elsa gets carsick. Elsa and Ezra did GREAT. (No small thanks
to portable DVD players!) We ask a lot of our kids and they've demonstrated
again and again their resiliency and flexibility.

I don't think I could adequtely put into words what it was like to pull up
under the big fig tree across the river from Dick and Donna's place and our
new home. I think all I can say is that we're here. And God is faithful.
And we're here.

Ready to Go

How many times in the last year have I written or said that? We're ready to
go! It is hard to believe that for the forseeable future, this will be the
last time I say that. So off we go...we've packed up our apartment here in
Addis Ababa, we've finished language school, we've said good-bye to friends,
and now we're ready to make the move to Omo. What awaits us we've been
dreaming about and planning for these last four years, but still we can't
quite imagine what it will be like to put our feet on that ground and say
"We're here to stay."

We'll spend the next two days on the road. It's 900 kilometers from Addis to
Omo, so we'll go the first day to a town called Arba Minch and stay in a
guesthouse there. The second day we'll travel the rest of the way and should
arrive at the Omo River mid-afternoon.

Please pray for safe travels and calm kids. Two days is a long time to be
strapped in a car seat!

We're ready to go...

The Hardest Part

Today my oldest nephew turned 12. He turned 12 and I didn't get to see his face or hear his voice or give him a proper present or anything to let him know how much I love him on his 12th birthday. I'm here and he's there, and the distance between here and there is often a burden I struggle to bear.

His name is Kellan. He's my oldest nephew. I was only 13 when he was born. When he was 6 weeks old he did a massive poo all over me. So I'm kind of attached to this kid.

It hit me especially today how much I hated to miss out on his birthday because I can remember so clearly turning 12 myself. I turned 12 the summer my parents spent in New York, doing their mission orientation for Africa Inland Mission before we went to Kenya the first time. Jeff, my oldest brother (and Kellan's father), took me to Chuck E. Cheese for my birhtday. Technically I was way too old to go to Chuck E. Cheese for a grown-up almost teenager, but I didn't care. I remember loving every minute. I can so picture sitting in the front seat of the car, going to Chuck E. Cheese with Jeff driving, Jonelle and Jonathan sitting in the back, and we were listening to music I had chosen--Oldies. (I went through a stage). They had to have loved me a lot.

I don't like missing out on my nephews' birthdays. In fact, I hate it. So, Kellan, if you read this, I'm sorry I am not there to watch you turn 12. It for sure does not mean I love you any less.

It's just the hardest part.

Deplorable Blog Etiquette

What can I say? At best I am a half-hearted writer who struggles for inspiration...although the fact that I am slightly lazy and a major procrastinator is probably closer to the truth.

But forgive me! I will sit here until I fully update you on the last month--(Month! where has the time gone!?).

So in no particular chronological order, I will write as these things come to mind.

The most momentous occurrence in the past month: Ezra walks. He is a full-fledged, will-not-crawl, fall-72-times-a-day, slightly-off-balance walker. I cannot believe I now have two of them. He took his first steps for Grandma. Grandma and Papa returned from being stateside for the birth of Isla Brooks (a beautiful Daddy mini-me born to Leah and Tim on March 25th) and they arrived back just in time to be the first to witness Ezra's venture into kid-hood. As rough as it was on Grandma to leave little Isla, I think it helped a lot to be there for Ezzie's first steps.

I wasn't sure how I would feel about Ezra starting to walk. On one hand, I now have two who can go in opposite directions at considerable speeds. But despite the new parenting challenge, I love it. I love the look on his face when he falls for the 12th time in 20 minutes and he puts his head down on the ground, looking at me as if to say 'ow. should I cry?'. But of course he gets back up. And I love how he has suddenly gone from not realizing what he is actually capable of to not realizing what he is NOT capable of--hence the puffy lip and scraped chin compliements of a tumble off the sidewalk ledge. I love it. My baby is now a boy.

We spent the end of April and the first few days of May in Kenya. We attended an All-Africa Gathering of our mission, the Reformed Church in America. The conference was great, we had a really good time. It was a little jolting for Caleb to suddenly be a colleague of multiple long-term missionary couples whom he had grown up calling 'Aunt' and 'Uncle'. Although probably more so for those aunts and uncles!

We also spent a couple of days in Nairobi, staying with an old teacher and soccer coach of ours from our RVA days. Trish (Furman) Hughett has been a long-time friend of ours and we had a great time catching up with her. I had a chance to ride out to RVA with her and see the school and all the changes since the last time I saw it (over 7 years ago). What a beautiful, beautiful place.

After staying at Trish's, we went to the Kenyan coast for a few nights with some friends of ours from Addis. We loved our week there...all we did was play in the pool and enjoy each other and our kids. It was wonderful.

(Oh, that reminds me--I have updated our picture site again, so if you want to see pictures of Ezra starting to walk, his first birthday, and our trip to Kenya, check out www.elsamorrell.shutterfly.com).

We had a really interesting experience on a field trip with our language school last week. We went as a group to a place about 2 hours north of Addis Ababa called Debre Libanos. Debre Libanos is considered one of the most holy sites in Ethiopia because it is home to a monastery started by Tekle Hayminot, one of the Ethiopian Orthodox faith's most revered saints. The legend surrounding Tekle Hayminot is that for 29 years he stood praying in a cave. On one leg. And that one leg fell off. So he's kind of a big deal.

Anyways, we were going to see this Orthodox church and the cave where T.H. prayed and lost his leg, and then we were going to an old 14th century Portugese bridge to have a picnic. Our group consisted of both students and teachers from the language school. While most of our group was in the church, two of our language teachers went out in the church compound with the intention of witnessing to some of the Orthodox believers there. The rest of us continued with our tour and then hiked up to the cave, and as we were getting back on our bus, the language school director was told that the two language teachers had been arrested and were being detained by the police. What we all didn't know going into this day was one, this was the week of T.H.'s 'feast day' (therefore one of the most holy days of the year), and two, it is incredibly, incredibly offensive to 'preach' or 'witness' in any way, shape, or form at an Orthodox site. Technically, Ethiopia is a country of religious freedom, and legally, you are able to share your faith. But apparently at the most holy site, on one of the most holy days, in Ethiopia, the offensiveness of trying to "scatter the Orthodox people" (the police and priest's words) takes precedence over any law.

The police and priests were not inclined to let the two teachers go until after Tuesday, which was the official feast day (this was Friday). Our language school director, was also disinclined to leave her teachers behind, and so we stayed at Debre Libanos, on our bus, for over two hours while the situation was trying to be resolved. The real problem was not with the police or the charges that would possibly be brought against these two men, but was actually with the crowd. There was a real danger of a riot breaking out if it appeared like the police were going to let these two men go. The police were attempting to find a way to get our teachers out safely without them or our bus being stoned.

Finally, after Ramonda (our language school director) pleaded for forgiveness on behalf of the teachers, we were able to leave with a police escort under the pretense of taking the teachers to the next town to be held at that police station. This allowed us to leave the grounds of Debre Libanos without further inciting the crowd and possibly igniting an already tense situation.

It was definitely a cultural eye-opener for us. I don't think either Caleb or I had realized before this the sensitivity and intensity of the Ethiopian Orthodox tradition. It was a witness-damaging and unfortunate incident, apparently it will be a long time before a busload of Christians will be welcomed back at Debre Libanos. It definitely raises the discussion of what being an effective witness looks like and the power of contextualization and relationship-building vs. a confrontational presentation of the Gospel. Thanks be to God that our whole group was safely delivered from a potentially dangerous situation.

So I've now not only waited an obscene amount of time to update this blog that I've probably lost all of my readers, I've also created a post that is so long most likely only my mother will read all of it.

If you've persevered through all of this...amesegenalehoo (THANK YOU in Amharic)!

That is our month in a nutshell, though. We are now in our last two weeks of language school and cannot believe we are this close to finishing and making the final move down to Omo. These last two weeks will be busy with finishing up our classes, packing our things, and doing a lot of shopping for supplies.

I'm stopping now.

Oh wait. I've been meaning to say that I cannot access our blog from Ethiopia. For some reason, 'blogspot' is blocked by Ethiopia. So while we were in Kenya, I was able to open the blog and see all of the comments for the first time that people have written! Thank you to all who read and comment on this blog, it was a real encouragement to me to read all of the comments. I'm sorry I cannot regularly respond to anything written in a comment because of my lack of access to the blog. So if you want me to respond to you, email me at caleb.swart@yimesgin.org.

I'm really stopping now.

Happy Birthday Ezra!

Updated Pictures

We've recently discovered a restaurant close by that has free high speed internet access, so I was able to load all of our pics from the last couple of months into our photo website. If you're interested in checking them out, here is the website: www.elsamorrell.shutterfly.com . I have to warn that they are mostly of our kids--what can I say, they just keep doing such darn cute things all the time.

The Longest Prayer

I didn't know what I was asking. I really didn't. And in hindsight, if I had known that by asking a guest to pray in our home that it would be a 25 minute event--speaking in tongues included, as well as a mini-sermon--I believe I still would have asked him to do so. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Last night we asked our nanny, Tizita, her family and also one of her sisters (who is a language teacher in our language school) to come to our house for dinner. Hospitality in Ethiopia is foundational to their culture--they bring forth amazing meals from seemingly nothing, and they are some of the warmest and most gracious hosts you will ever encounter. Tizita has already had us over for a meal at her house, and so I wanted to have her and her family over to eat at our house as well. We had a great evening together, eating and watching the kids play together, and before they left, I asked Berhanu (Tizita's husband) to pray, which is a common custom in Ethiopian culture.
Caleb asked me later if I had any idea what we would experience when I asked Berhanu to pray, and I replied truthfully that I had no earthly idea that we would get what we got. Being a good Free Methodist-raised Christian, I expected a heartfelt "Thank you, Lord, for the time we've spent together, the food we've shared, and please bless this family".
Oh no.
Berhanu stood up, began chanting in Amharic, and for the next 25 minutes, prayed, sermonized, blessed us, praised God, gave thanks, beseeched the Lord on our behalf, and spoke in tongues. Oh, note here--seeing as it was all speaking in tongues to me (my Amharic, although coming along, was only able to make out a few words that I knew), I had no idea until later when Caleb told me that what I had just experienced (for the first time in my life!) was hearing someone speak in tongues.
Now all of this still could have been taken as quite a normal event. But seeing as we have two children under two who are not used to 25 minute prayers, Berhanu's prayer was competing with Elsa and Ezra's shenanigans. Elsa went back and forth between telling everyone to "Wake Up!" and mimicking Berhanu's stance and intonations. Yes, I'm sure all of this made such a great impression on our Ethiopian brothers and sisters--their children, of course, were sitting beautifully still and quiet.
Although it was hard to keep from laughing at our oh so reverent child, I learned something. Although so different from the way that I approach my Father, it was beautiful and passionate and so heartfelt. And I know this home was blessed by the words and pleas uttered on our behalf.
So, yes, even though I didn't know what I was asking, I would ask again. Pray on, Berhanu, pray on.

A Day Off

Last week we had a break from school so we took advantage by doing nothing at all. We had originally planned to go down to Omo for our break, but our car ended up not coming in time so we weren't able to go. Instead, Caleb spent most of the week clearing our car from customs (successfully!--pictures to follow) and we took a day to go to an insanely fancy hotel here in Addis to swim for the day. It was a perfect day. We went into it thinking our kids wouldn't last more than an hour or two, but it was after a full day that we finally bribed them out of the pool with a promise of ice cream. (Bribes work--especially of the sweet variety. Don't judge, you know you've done it, too.) Here's a picture of the four of us enjoying the Addis sunshine and the warm water:

A Baby Named Joanna

recently found out from Donna, Caleb's mom, that one of the babies I helped deliver while I was down at Omo in January was named Joanna. Well, to say I helped 'deliver' this baby is a tad inflated. It's more like I crouched in the dimly lit hut and watched while Donna and a local midwife wrestled this first-time mom into a position suitable for a safe delivery (this lady was being uncharacteristically resistant to the process over-taking her body), and I simply happened to catch the squirmy, slippery little girl who made her debut into the Daasanech world. I'm sure her eyes were blinded by glaringly white face peering into her little face the moments after she was born, but since the mom was 'angry' at this little being who caused her so much pain and refused to hold her, I was the one to clean her up, cut her cord, and whisper to her those sweet nothings that you can only say to a brand new babe.
Naming babies after the Swart family has been a long tradition among the Daasanech, there are more than a few "Donnies", "Rays" (for Caleb's grandfather Giles), "Shelahs" and "Leahs" (Caleb's sisters), and "Calebs" running around up and down the Omo River. I'm sure it won't be long before we hear of little "Elsas" and "Ezras" running around, too.
I suppose if we accomplish nothing else by living among the Daasanech, at least we can say we've added pages to their "What Shall We Name the Baby?" book.

Happy 2nd birthday, Elsa!

Birthday party for Elsa

Daddy's Handiwork-- a barbie birthday cake for Elsa!

Ez enjoying the barbie cake

More please!

Happy Birthday Elsa -- a new tricycle from Grandma and Papa!

Menegasha Forest

We had the chance this last weekend to get out of the city and take a picnic to Menegasha Forest. We ate lunch by a little stream, hiked to a waterfall, and had a really good day just breathing free from the city. We could feel ourselves relaxing the further we drove away from Addis Ababa. The kids had a great time, Caleb caught a tadpole for them and they entertained themselves for a good 20 minutes grabbing it back and forth from each other. Ezra has definitely developed a mind of his own the past month and doesn't like to settle for not getting what he wants, which was the tadpole in this case. He lost his privileges for getting to play with it, though, when he tried to eat it.
All in all, a great way to spend a Sunday.

Don't Let Satan Blow Your Banana Out

I attempted to teach Elsa sign language during her pre-verbal months, and although I can't say it was entirely successful (she only knows 4 signs), it has had a lasting influence on her perception of the world. Well, at least her understanding of the kids classic "This Little Light of Mine".
Elsa's sign for "banana" is holding up her pointer finger and her thumb in an "L" shape and moving it back and forth--or, exactly how you would hold up your little light for the song. Recently I realized that when we sang "This Little Light of Mine", and got to the part about not letting Satan blow it out, Elsa was blowing on her finger and saying "Shh manna"--or in other words, don't let Satan blow your banana out.
Yes, indeed. Don't let Satan blow your banana out.

Dehna Nachihoo! Igzhaibier Yimesgin!

Welcome to our world of the Amharic language. We are now starting into our fourth week of language school. We've been fortunate thus far, the first month of school is done phonetically--meaning that we haven't yet had to quadruple our concentration level to wrestle with the 230+ Amharic Fidel (an alphabet that does not use our script, rather symbols similar to what you would associate with Hebrew and Arabic). That is what awaits us, though, after this next week.
But our first month has gone well. We've found a great nanny named Tizita to watch Elsa and Ezra while we are in school, and we are fortunate enough to live right here on the same compound as the language school. That has made the transition much easier, because I can still come up and feed Ezra and check on both of them. Tizita has been very good with them, we feel lucky to have found her. Although Elsa spent her first week manipulating Tizita into giving her minute-by-minute snacks and movies until I finally realized what was going on and told Tizita that it is more than okay to tell the little girl 'no'!
The kiddos are definitely experiencing the benefits of being in one place now for more than 3 weeks, which I think was our record the last 3 months or so before we left the States. It has been great to see them settle in, start to sleep better, eat better, and feel secure in their home. Elsa has now joined the contingent of wandering little ones who make themselves at home in neighbor's houses here on the compound.
Our minds are being put to work after a long time of disuse, so you can pray that we can absorb the language learning to the best of our abilities! Other than language school, we really do not have much else going on right now--well, I guess with 2 under 2, there's always something going on. But our time is for the most part our own, so Caleb and I have taken to fighting over who gets to do laundry in our new semi-automatic washing machine. You wouldn't believe the satisfaction that comes from seeing all your clean laundry hanging on the line to dry. Ahh...simple pleasures.

Finally some pictures of Omo!

Keeping cool

Family Ride

Ezra and Elsa eating Grandpa Swart's mangos!

Date night at the ridge

Caleb's first big catch back

at Omo-- a 42 pound

humpback catfish

The Neighborhood DMV

So Caleb and I went to go get our Ethiopian drivers' licenses last week, and it's one of those experiences that I could never do justice, but I'll try and relate some of the highlights to you. We needed what is known as a "grade 3" license, because our vehicle is a 10 passenger Land Cruiser, and anything over 8 passengers in Ethiopia requires this Grade 3 license. The Grade 2 license, which most people get, is relatively easy to get, but the Grade 3 has proven elusive to most foreigners without jumping through a lot of hoops. There is an Ethiopian SIM staff member, Nicco, who takes care of importing vehicles, licensing, and pretty much anything to do with the mission vehicles, and so he was kind enough to take us to get our licenses. Actually, Nicco was kind enough to do absolutely everything for us while we stood around looking as ignorant as we are.
We started out the day at 8 am, and spent the next 7 hours working through the process of getting these licenses. (You thought your DMV wait time was bad). We followed Nicco like good little children as he went from window to window, building to building--paying a fee here, getting a copy made here, getting a stamp on this paper, getting a signature on this form. The thing about Ethiopia is that there is no concept of an orderly line or waiting your turn. The person who gets helped is the person who pushes to the front and waves his paper the most enthusiastically in front of the window. Lucky for us, Nicco is very good at this. Plus, he has connections . Eventually as we were waiting around, it came out that we would be expected to take an examination plus a driving test in (drumroll please) a lorry-type truck. Not only would we be driving in a lorry, but we would be expected to double clutch each time we downshifted. (Thoughts here...first, what is double clutching? second, is there actually a driving course back behind this building where we can actually reach speeds in a lorry to warrant shifting up to 4th gear and back down?) Nicco, thankfully, saw my face at news of this driving test, and promised he would get me out of it. Apparently, a woman who cannot double clutch can be safely given a Grade 3 license without taking a driving examination simply because she is a woman. Well, possibly a white woman. So that is great--I was exempt from driving. Caleb, though, would not be exempt. He would need to take the driving test.
So with that understood, we were shuffled off to our "orientation". We were put in a room with a large board of road signs, an Ethiopian proctor of sorts, and a Chinese man. I guess we were lumped with the Chinese because of our common lack of black skin, never mind that the Chinese man could not speak a word of English. We were handed a blank piece of paper and told to write 1-70 the meanings of the road signs. I won't go into detail because I cannot even begin to explain what all happened next, but Caleb and I proceeded to get pretty much every road sign wrong while the Chinese man pantomined the meanings of the road signs in the background to pass his examination. Ahh..Ethiopia.
Somehow we managed to pass our exam, even with all of our errors, and reunited with Nicco to find out he had worked his magic again and somehow had gotten the driving test signed off for Caleb as well. So after 7 hours of waiting, running, laughing, trying to fill out forms in Amharic, and generally being in disbelief the entire day, we emerged victorious with our Grade 3 licenses.
Just don't ask me to double clutch.

New Contact Information

We now have email access at our house!
Our new email address is caleb.swart@yimesgin.org
Please do not use our yahoo email address anymore, we don't have an easy way to check it.
Our regular mail address is:

Caleb and Joanna Swart
Box 127
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

We'd love to hear from you!

Don't Eat That Spider (and other ways my life has changed)

The thing about having said that to Elsa earlier today is not exactly
what I said (hey, you may say that you one of your kids one day), it's more
the tone in which it was said. No need for panic anymore at the possibility
of a spider being ingested...comments such as that are becoming
common-place. Elsa, don't pick those leaves, they'll make you sick. Elsa, don't drink
water out of the faucet, it's dirty. Ezra, did you pee on the floor? No matter, it'll dry.
Before we left the US, I made the major purchase and mental switch from
disposable to cloth diapers. What I failed to realize, though, was how
little my children's little buns would need to be covered. Elsa and
Ezra spend the majority of their day running freely un-diapered, because
when it comes down to it, wiping up the floor of a little poo is much easier
than handwashing a messy cloth diaper. So it seems as though the $300 I
spent on diapers could have been better spent on, hmmm, I don't know
what...Crystal Light drink mixes? Now that would have been money well spent!
We will go back up to Addis Ababa on Tuesday morning. Hopefully I will
get to post some pictures. The pictures will do more than I could ever
write about what things have been like. There's nothing like a picture of
Ezra sitting in the kitchen sink, where he spends the majority of his day
(he's not tolerating the heat as well as the rest of us, the kitchen sink is
where he is happiest) to show how far we've come from the snowy, cold days of
Holland, Michigan.

Clinic

I've had my first experiences with the medical work here at OMO.
Caleb's mom, Donna, is a nurse who works a lot with the Daasanech women and
children. She helps to run prenatal and immunization clinics, and also
responds to people's calls for help during difficult deliveries. This
morning I went with Donna to run a clinic at a village across the
river. We had 29 women come to the clinic, and it was amazing to see how Donna
works in this environment. I couldn't help but laugh, remembering my own OB
visits with both of the kids, where everything is so sterile and high-tech,
and then here we are, listening to fetal heart tones with a wooden
feto-scope. I loved my first encounter with what I hope to be doing here when we're
done with language school.
Later that afternoon a woman came to see us, saying that her daughter
had delivered a baby around noon and hadn't yet delivered the placenta (it
was around 5 pm). So Donna and I took the truck down to a nearby village to
see the woman. Donna worked with her for about an hour, finally giving her
a medication to help start her contractions again to be able to deliver
the placenta. We left soon after, with instructions for the family to send
word in the morning what had transpired during the night. If the woman had
still not delivered the placenta, we would take her to the health post and
attempt to manually extract the placenta. The next morning we got word that the
woman had delivered the placenta soon after we had left the evening
before. I have to tell you that I stand in awe of Donna and all she does here.
I have much to learn.

Omo

We've safely arrived at OMO. We'll spend the next week and a half here
before we need to head back up to the capital to start language school.
Being here is like taking a breath after being underwater for a very
long time. Both Caleb and I feel such a sense of relief and calm being here
after the semi-chaos of the last three months.
We've stripped the babies down to nothing and they are loving their
freedom. The last few nights up in Addis have not been good. Both kids have had
a really hard time adjusting to the time change and Addis is extremely
cold at night, so that has been affecting the way they sleep. Last night here,
though, Elsa slept through and Ezra did much much better as well. Ezra
and I have been battling some sickness, so that has been making sleep
difficult for him. Please pray for us that we can stay healthy as we get adjusted
to a new environment.

Arrived

We've arrived safely in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia! The trip went amazingly
well, thank you to all who were praying for our kiddos on the long trip. Both
Elsa and Ezra slept the majority of the first flight, then we only had a 2
hour layover in Frankfurt, Germany, and then they both slept the first half
of the second flight. We had the bulkhead row on both flights, so we were
able to have a bassinet for Ezra to sleep in on both flights. I can't
remember the last time that I flew without a baby in my lap! It was so great to
have my arms free. Ezra thought sitting up in the bassinet was the greatest
thing, he loved it. And Elsa did so well on the long trip. We wondered
how she would handle being confined for such a long period of time, but she
did better than we could have hoped.
Caleb's parents were at the Addis airport to meet us. We've all dreamed
of this moment for a long time, words cannot adequately express how it
felt to step out of the airport and see their faces. They took us back to our
home for the next year, the SIM's Akaki Compound where we will live and
attend language school. We have a great little two bedroom apartment that is
perfect for our family. The compound is home to 8 or 9 families, with
tons of kids, a swingset, sand box, soccer field, and lots of dogs for Elsa
to throw rocks for. It'll be a really nice place to live while we are
doing our language studies.
We'll be here for the next few days and then we'll go down country to OMO.
We'll fly down on Friday and spend 12 days at our future home before we
need to come back up to the capital to start language school.
I know lots of people were praying us through this trip, so your
prayers were answered! Thank you for your thoughts for us. We'll be in touch.

It's Time

Today's the day we leave. It's hard to know what I'm supposed to be feeling. Right now I have to admit that all I want is to close my eyes and be there--bypassing the next 24 hours of flying from Atlanta to Frankfort to Khartoum to Addis Ababa. Pray hard! We have one very very active 21 month old and I'm not sure how she is going to survive being in confined space for such an extended period of time.
We're excited, though. How could we not be? This is what we have dreamed of for the past 3 years. Looking back on the last few years, the Lord has been so faithful to us, we know that He will continue to show his heart for us through the next few days of travel as well.
Our last three days have been so sweet. We're here in Atlanta with Tim and Leah, and Shelah and Dave. Being altogether makes it tempting to wish we weren't going anywhere! It's been so nice to be with our family again.
Our kids have demonstrated lately that they don't value sleep nearly as much as their parents do, so that has been wearing us down. For their sakes as well as ours, pray that we can all rest once we get there and adjust to the new time change.
So...this is it. We're on our way. We'll be in touch from the other side!
We love you all.

Countdown

Officially...5 days. Unofficially...an eternity and a moment all in one. It is hard to believe that we are actually at this point. It's coming fast and at the same time, it feels like it will never come at all. We've spent such a long time planning for this moment that in some ways it never felt like it would really happen. But happening it is! We are in our last week here in America. At the moment we are in Atlanta. We've spent the last two weeks in Tennessee and North Carolina, spening the holidays with some of Caleb's family. We were so pampered and loved on and didn't have to worry about a thing while we were at Caleb's aunt and uncle's house, it was such a great reprieve from some of the stress we've been feeling.
As I sit here and write, Caleb is stuffing an army-green duffle full of who knows what--books for Elsa and Ezra, cloth diapers, tank tops and shorts for the hot OMO weather, blank DVDs to be able to send back home videos of the kids to grandparents and aunties and uncles. We're down to packing the last two bags. Only those who have done it before realize the horror of those last couple bags!! We know it will all find a place and we will make it to Ethiopia...hopefully without losing our minds in the process. I think mine was dropped off somewhere between Asheville and Atlanta.
We have been low on sleep as our kids adjust to yet another move and neither Caleb nor I feel very well...pray for strength beyond measure.