Ethiopian Culture

Today Mom was going over our schoolwork from the last week with us, and when she mentioned culture differences, I started thinking about Ethiopian culture. I thought of two things, but now I can only remember one! :-( So I'll have to share that one with you and a couple more Mom thought of.

1. It is a common sight to see the Ethiopian men holding eachother's hands as they walk together. My friend who went to Uganda last year says that that is also common in Uganda. It's very interesting and kind of surprising to see men holding hands as they walk down the street.

2. When they meet eachother, the Ethiopian people greet eachother by kissing eachother"s cheeks or the air by their cheeks. I noticed that usually they would greet eachother, and then as they were talking about how they were doing or whatever, they would do their kissing routine. This is actually something we have experienced with Belly Boy. Although he gave us kisses, he never kissed our mouth or anything. He would always turn his head to kiss one cheek and then the other. It was very cute!! Now he goes between cheek and lip kissing.

3. It is considered rude to eat with your left hand!

So there are three culture facts about Ethiopia. I'll probably think of the one I forgot later while I'm in bed!

Hope you had a wonderful Sunday!

I hadn't thought of this...

I never thought of the fact until the other day that Belly Boy probably misses Ethiopia and his nannies and his friends there. Sure, he loves us a lot, and perhaps he doesn't get the whole new family thing, but he knows we are here to hold him when he gets hurt, play with him, love on him, and care for him. But this is all stuff he's had to rely on other people for. Then all of the sudden he meets some people who visit on and off for several days and then he's taken away from the place he's lived at for such a long time.

The other day Minte woke up crying. This is normal obviously. I think most all babies I know cry to get your attention when they're awake. But this was not that kind of cry. It was almost like he had had a bad dream. It was so sad. Mom cuddled him and finally he settled down. Mom thought he missed Ethiopia and his nannies and friends back there.

I get homesick after about a week after being away from my family! When I was in Ethiopia, I got homesick even faster because I was sick of long plane rides and being so far from home! Poor Belly Boy! He has been so far away from his "home" for weeks! He must miss so many things back in Ethiopia!

Homesickness is such a horrible feeling to have, especially when you are so little. I can't imagine being so little and not understanding what was going on, and not being able to tell my new parents that I was sad and missed Ethiopia.

Two interesting stories about our trip

I think about a lot of things while I clean bathrooms. I think about what someone just said to me, how slowly I should eat my Peeps, (the marshmallow kind!), so they last, and randomly about other things. I also am pretty good at multitasking! ;-)

But anyways, today while I cleaned the kids' bathroom, I was randomly thinking about the airport on our way to and from Ethiopia. And along with a few amusing things that we saw, I thought more about two stories that happened along the way.

So, we're on our way to Ethiopia to pick up my new little brother and we're at the Amsterdam airport waiting for Dad who's in the bathroom. Throughout the airport they have signs, recordings, and all these things warning you about do's and don'ts! Do NOT bring 6 in. long knives. Do NOT bring weapons! Do NOT leave your baggage unattended.

So Mom and I are standing against a wall with our bags, waiting for Dad. People are walking by. Short people, tall people, long-haired people, short-haired people, (I feel like Dr. Suess!). You hear all kinds of languages and see all kinds of people. And it's rather interesting to watch. All of the sudden an older man though I wouldn't call him elderly, goes flying forward to the ground. It looks like he tripped. He's about 9 ft. away from Mom and I and he quickly sits up and he's shaking. The people around him quickly stop to check on him, including Mom. I stay behind replaying his falling scene in my head and thinking how fake it looked. But I'm usually wrong when I think someone's faking, so I just stay behind and let Mom and the other people talk to him and help him.

The man looks like he's not enjoying the attention, but his knees and legs are shaking so much that it's obviously going to be impossible to help him get to his feet. He looks like he's having a seizure. After a while, a security guy and a few other people make their way to the crowd and everyone starts to leave and let them take care of him. The man is requesting that someone please get his son at this gate number and so on, but although the guy in the suit talks into a walkie talkie, nothing seems to be happening. They got the man something hot to drink and are still letting him sit there. No sign of a younger man coming. Mom went over there again and tried to get the men to understand he wants his son to help him, but though they seem to understand, they never do anything.

While Mom is on her way over back to me, she asks me with a weird kind of smile, "Did you stay with our stuff?" I nod yes and she joins me to continue waiting for Dad and watch the older man.

After a while, nothing was happening, so I got bored and didn't continue watching the scene. Some time later, though, I noticed that they had put the fallen man in a seat cart thing and were wheeling him towards the gates. I don't know what happened later, but it was a very interesting experience.

The second thing I was remembering was the long wait at the Ethiopian airport with Minte. When we got to the airport, we had to wait FOREVER for the lines to open up for us to check our flights and stuff. That was because we were VERY, VERY early. They had this little area with benches for people to sit and wait, so we went with a few other of our group to wait there. Our family had a baggage cart filled with a few of our suitcases, while the rest were sitting next to us. I was holding Minte and pulling a wheeled suitcase because Mom was feeling very sick and Dad had to figure out paperwork and everything. We went to this area and Mom took Minte to one open spot on a bench to try to sit down and feel better. Dad went to go try to get birr exchanged back to U.S. dollars.

I was left with the bags again and sat down on one not on the cart. In front of me were all the filled benches. But directly in front of me, an older Ethiopian woman was curled up with a light shawl completely covering her. Obviously she was sleeping to pass the time away til her flight. She had a cart next to her filled with plastic wrapped baggage.

A few minutes later, a man approached her, waking her up. She looked sleepy and was trying to wrap the shawl around her as she fumbled for her purse. Opening it, she pulled out a passport and gave it to him. He flipped through it, looked like he couldn't find what he was looking for, and then said something more to her. She looked more in her purse, but found nothing more to give him.

The airport man looked like he was tired and didn't want to deal with whatever this lady's problem was, but he said something more to the woman and left. I saw him later arguing with another man. The older woman looked sad. She was very thin and her hair was very thin and grey. She slowly swung her feet off the bench in front of her and pulled on her shoes and then put her shawl more nicely and securely around herself. She was talking to herself, and it was kind of freaking me out. Dad was far away and Mom was with Minte quite a distance away too. And there were so many suitcases to keep an eye on!!!!

I can't remember what exactly happened next. Maybe the man came back and said more to the woman, or maybe she saw them talking intently a distance away. Either way, she began crying. She was trying not to cry very loudly, but tears were rolling down her face and she kept sobbing. The man sitting on the bench next to her looked like an American. He turned to see her crying. He then turned towards me, caught my eye, shrugged, and went back to his paper. It seemed so mean. I wanted to help her, but I don't know her language, don't know ANYTHING about paperwork, and Dad wasn't nearby. I didn't feel safe enough to go to her. The woman was now putting her arms slightly in the air towards the ceiling, still muttering, but I think she was praying for God's help. She kept looking down, talking, then turning to the ceiling again. It was very cool, because she wasn't dressed Muslim and I think she was a Christian, like me.

Some men came to the woman later and said something. She quickly grabbed her stuff, and quickly started pushing the heavy cart with them towards the desks. I was mad that they would let her, a tiny, frail old woman,  push the cart herself, but when they got farther along, one of the men took it himself. I don't know what ended up happening. I never saw her again.

So those are my two airport stories. I think the second one was the most interesting. And I wish now I had done something or that Dad had been there to tell me what to do or whatever.

Picture from Ethiopia

The making of injera

This is the griddle thing that the cooks at the guest house used to make the injera we ate. It is in the back, behind the kitchen, in a little room.
The cooks use this seed that, when hot, leaves an oil behind. So basically, instead of using cooking spray, they use seed.

They first sprinkle the seed on the griddle.

Then they wipe off the burned seeds, leaving behind the seed's oil. The cook then poured the mixture on to the "griddle" just like a pancake.

Round and round. She was doing this so fast! It was pretty impressive!

The injera bubbles for a while..

then they put down the top and wait for a couple minutes.

Next, they use a basket and slide it under the now cooked injera.

They slide the basket under the injera and take it to another waiting basket where they lay it on top of the other finished injera. I didn't see what they did afterward, but I think they cut it in half and rolled it up for us to use to dip in the spicy sauces for lunch!

The cook was so pretty and nice and she gave us an opportunity to try to make injera ourselves. I volunteered after Mom left with the camera. The man giving us the "tour", gave me an A! ;-) (I poured some of the batter off the griddle! The cook was so nice again, trying to let me know through our language barriers, that it was okay and not a big deal! I loved her!)

Part 2

So going back to what I was saying before, (though I must say, I'm not in the same mood as I was then! :-), it has been amazing seeing God working through our latest adoption.

It began with us looking into foster care and going through the process. When the agency messed up, my parents decided that was God's sign that we shouldn't do foster care. So they began looking into adopting again. They chose to try to adopt from Ethiopia this time.

We filled out paperwork and began the process to adopt. It took a while. Then Mom saw info about a child on the waiting child list. She told Dad about him and they began praying. When they received Belly Boy's information, they prayed again. And I remember the night they decided God was telling them to adopt that child. That was one great night!

Before Dad and Mom found out about Belly Boy, we were pretty sure we were going to have twins. We wanted twins pretty bad. At least, us kids did. We told the agency we were open to twins, but God had a bigger, better plan.

After we got Belly Boy's referral and accepted it, we had to pass court. But we didn't pass the first time. Our date was rescheduled. To our relief, we passed that time.

Now we were eager to leave to get Belly Boy, but we had to wait again. We received a date sometime in April. We planned for then. Then we got that phone call that gave us the opportunity to leave MUCH earlier! A month earlier!!! Wow, thank you, God! Who knows if we had passed court the first time, if we would have been able to leave much earlier like we did!

And when we reached Ethiopia, and met Belly Boy, he bonded to us so quickly! Today, at home, he is so close to all of us. He knows who will get the toys he drops and who will cuddle him and squeeze him, and who also will teach him to hit himself and laugh, (me!).