Thank You (28/8)

I’m not yet home, still a long way off, but I am at the end of my time in Mekele. A few days left to go in Addis, and maybe I’ll add a post-script. I don’t think is much more to say though. I’ve got a massive lump in my throat and the tears keep threatening…

I am amazed at how far around the world my blog has been read and I hope you have found my insights into my time in Ethiopia insightful, inspiring and moving. I never intended to ever write so much, but I just wanted to share it all with you –thank you for the perseverance! Maybe it has had an effect? Maybe it’s made you want to come and meet the children? Maybe you will…

Without sounding too negative, our achievements so far have been fantastic, but I won’t ever let myself be fooled into a false sense of security or satisfaction – I know what I have done here has helped out a small number of children in a small way for a short period of time. However, there is a long way to go and much work to be done. What I have learnt here is that there is not simply ‘lots of poor people’. There are many individuals that are suffering many individual heart-breaking difficulties, each of them has a story to tell – and it has been a privilege for me to listen and help out where I can. I have also learnt that there is much optimism and joy and hope and love. There are dreams about tomorrow and I just hope that in the future YOU may be one of the people that can help these people realise their dreams. It is a lot easier than you think…

-------------------
THANK YOU
------------------

Firstly I’d like to thank the sisters who have welcomed me into their community of St Vincent’s for six weeks: Sr. Medhin Tesfay, the Coordinator of the Daughters of Charity in Tigray, Sr. Fisseha, Sr. Medhin Abraha, Sr. Fana, Sr. Desta and Sr Alganesh. You have been SO wonderful; we have shared many laughs and such joy – thank you for letting me share in your lives here in Mekele. You have got me through the difficult times and let me enjoy the good times. This thanks is extended to the many other sisters who we have met during our stay including Sr Abeba Hadgu (from Alitena) and Sr. Meaza (from St Louisa’s, Mekele). I extend my thanks to all the other staff at St Vincent’s who have also made my stay even more enjoyable and relaxed. It has been a much appreciated – a safe-haven in a hectic and sometimes difficult environment.

Secondly, I’d like to thank Tommy who has accompanied me on this amazing journey. His friendship, support and help have been unfaltering throughout. When two total strangers embark on such a mission together there will always be difficulties, but we have experienced something very special here together and it is something I will certainly never forget. I’d also like to thank John O’Callaghan whose second stay at St Vincent’s was perfect for him to show us around the town, introduce us to Enet (thanks also to Josie and Robbi!), and generally help us find out feet in Mekele. It was much appreciated! John Bradley joined us for the last week and it was nice to share all the initial experiences of Mekele, the project and the children again though him. I also feel very confident in leaving ‘our’ children in his capable hands and I know he will achieve great things with them. Good luck John!

I’d like to thank the CAFOD staff, without whom this whole trip would not have be possible. Denise for originally suggesting the idea to me (and encouraging me to actually get round to filling in the form!), Nicky and Heather in Brixton for all their very hard work before and during the trip, Seb and Debbie for their media advice, Helen and Sophie who came to visit us, as well as Bev (we’ll go dancing next time!), Jannie, Seamus, Hialu and all the other Addis-based staff who made sure we were very safe and happy. I extend this thanks to Anna, who as a volunteer last year, provided both endless advice and a few Birr – both of which were very handy!

My friends and family have also been fantastic at donating money, time and equipment for my time in Ethiopia. I honestly don’t think I would have even got packed without the help of my parents, and they have been supportive and encouraging throughout – I know they have also been forwarding this blog around and for that I am very grateful too. If I’ve made just one person think a little differently, then the many hours spent typing on the laptop into the night have all been worth it!

My extended family have been wonderful by sending boxes of stuff to me, donating money and getting the support and prayers of their parishes and local communities. I can’t thank you enough and will look forward to sharing all my stories with you in person and the next family ‘do’ – although my tan may not last until then! Maybe you can’t choose your family, but I think I’d choose mine again…

My friends have also been more than amazing. Hazel has been a constant source of inspiration and comfort, right from helping me fill out my application form sat in the Elms, to being in regular contact whilst I was actually in Ethiopia – I do still love to hear all the gossip! Nick has made a wonderful contribution to the lives of the children in the project with his songbook; it has already been photocopied many times and the majority of the songs are now familiar to them. Ciaran and Ash, my wonderful landlords who put up with all my stuff, helped me move house and still provided meals, first aid equipment and medical advice! Gill and Michael have both been an inspiration for teaching TEFL, providing advice, resources and help. Morgan also helped with the cutting of my hair and sharing concerns about rats. Tom has also put up a mirror of my blog for those in Ethiopia, which has been a great relief and help. All those who have text, emailed and facebook’ed me have also been a constant source of inspiration to keep on going! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I must also thank the members of both tommcrae.com and shrimperzone.com. I have been overwhelmed with the kindness and generosity of ‘strangers’ who have made huge contributions to my trip. I found it very humbling and really have appreciated all that you have done for me. The Southend LDV flag will forever live on in Mekele…

The donations made by local businesses have also been put to good use. Thank you.

The staff, parents and students from St John Payne School in Chelmsford have also been fantastic. Donations, words of encouragement and friendly advice have all been much appreciated over the last few months. Special thanks must go to my form who were (of course) brilliant, Frank who was supportive from the beginning and the fantastic Religious Studies department who collected money from staff and students. The kindness of certain individuals, both staff and students, has meant so much to me and will never be forgotten. Thank you also to Dave (and Katie!) for the loan of a laptop – it’s still in one piece…

I am also grateful for the support of my Diocese: from Bishop Thomas, to Fr Dominic, Fr Britto and all those in Mid-Essex Deanery. I have received donations, kind words of support and offers of help from all number of individuals and organisations. Again, I am immensely grateful. Certain individuals made large donations, which have made a real difference in the project that the children will never ever forget.

I’d like to give a special word of thanks to Naomi whom I have been totally dependent on during my time out here. Not a day has gone by without a text message, phone call or email. It felt like she was here with me on the difficult days and I only wished she were actually here to share the amazing days. Her love, support, encouragement, reassurance, kind words and listening ear have really kept me going. I don’t know how I would have managed without her and I’ll never forget it. Thank you.

Last of all, I want to thank the staff and the children at the Abba Gebremichael Project. I could not have asked for greater kindness and hospitality. At the end of my time here, I feel as if I have received so much more than given. I am already confident that the words, gestures, fun times and difficulties will never ever leave me. There have been neither constraints nor boundaries in the love, friendship, care and generosity you have shown to me. I hope and pray that one day I’ll be back to see if you all kept your promises and made the most of every opportunity presented to you. I’m sure you don’t really need me to check up on you, but I’ll try all the same. You are amazing young people; more amazing than anyone who hasn’t met you can ever imagine.

I cannot mention everyone by name – there are far too many people who have shown enormous generosity, kindness and love to me. Some people have surprised me; others never let me down. I feel in a very privileged position to have such wonderful family, friends and colleagues. You have touched me to depths I never knew I had with every donation, however large or small and I have seen first hand what a difference it has made to the people here. Do not underestimate what you have done; I thank you on behalf of the staff and children. In the words of Yohannis (John), “Only God knows the words to thank you enough”.
xx

Ethiopia - Things I've Learnt...(27/8)

Some things that I have learnt about…

The People – Ethiopians are the most gracious and appreciative people you could ever have the pleasure to meet. Every single person I have met was genuinely interested in the work I was doing, and grateful in a way as if I was personally helping them. A girl said to Tommy in a bar one night, “Thank you for looking after the other half of my body. I have one half and the street-children have the other half”. I have shared coffee, beles and even meals with relative strangers who wanted to show how grateful they were for the work that I was doing not for them, but for their people. As for the children at the project, there really aren’t any good or appropriate enough words…

The Daughters of Charity – I have never met such dedicated, hard working yet joyful people in all my life. They take apostolic vows, rather than holy orders, which are renewed each year: poverty, chastity, obedience as well as service to the poor. These people are modern day disciples and examples for all. The most amazing thing is the grace and joy with which they complete their daily tasks working with the poorest of the poor. I’m definitely going to miss Sr Desta’s call of ‘Andoooo’ for lunch each day…

The Past is Ever Present”“ – Everyone in Ethiopia can give you a slightly different version of the story of Queen Sheba and King Solomon, a variation on the country’s history and tell you countless stories of the people and land of Ethiopia. I have picked up a fascinating book giving the Ethiopian Nativity story which several wonderful additions to it. Oxen are still frequently used in the fields, donkeys carry heavy loads around town and whilst in Alitena we experienced the death of a local being announced; shouted from miles away around the still, nighttime mountains.

Religion – If Britain is a secular society, Ethiopia is its antithesis. Every child you find knows the history of the Orthodox Church and all the church’s founding saints. There are literally thousands and thousands of churches everywhere you go, especially in the countryside. People bless themselves frequently, and always when walking past the front of a church. At any given time prayers and hymns echo around the towns being broadcast from the churches’ loudspeaker system. There are also Catholics, Protestants, Muslims all living in this country and never once have I heard a single utterance of religious intolerance.

The Future – This is a country full to the brim with hope and optimism. There is so much determination to better their lives with the little means available. I am yet to meet someone under the age of 30 who is not studying in some way or another, be it distance-learning, university, evening classes. This buoyancy is carried even further by the forthcoming Ethiopian Millennium (September 11th).

Ethiopian Culture – Regardless of the number of Man Utd shirts seen on any Ethiopian street, the culture and traditions of the people here are stronger than ever. The traditional hospitality and courtesy never seem to falter and again every person that you meet wants to desperately share and let you experience their culture. Traditional cultural dress is worn regularly, and a prized possession for many of the children.

Volunteers – I have been lucky to share this experience with numerous other volunteers. John O’Callaghan was here soon after my arrival, John Bradley has arrived to stay way beyond my departure and of course Tommy Dobbin has been here throughout. Despite all the sacrifices we have made, the hardships we have been through and of course the tears and the difficult days, I know for certain that not one of us has any regrets about what we have done. We have played a very small part in a far bigger situation, but we have made a difference. It is far easier that you think, and I just hope my writings have possibly made you think about being next year’s ‘John’, ‘Tommy’, ‘Andy’ or ‘John’. The people here are waiting for you with the coffee on the go and the door to their home open…

Poverty – This is not just a label. Here I have learnt about what poverty really is: it is people, just like you and me, who are living their lives in the face of terrible difficulties. They are suffering greatly from AIDS/HIV, famine, drought, disease, war, unemployment, no welfare state and a hundred other things. Every single person here has a story to tell you, and sometimes they just want you to listen because it makes things a little easier.

Children – Essentially, they are all the same the world over! When the sleep together in one room they stay up all night talking, they love football, they like to play Top Trumps, they love to sing and dance, they loved to be hugged, they love to be treated, they are inquisitive, they like computers and mobile phones, they like R’n’B and they try to hide when you are about to leave from Alitena!

Making a Living – In a country where is literally no jobs, it is very hard to make enough money to survive. You can get paid 8Birr a day for carrying heavy stones, you can buy ‘softies’ for 60cents and try to sell them for 1Birr, you can collect metal for 2Birr per kilo… Everyone and anyone would do anything to make the odd Birr. In the countryside you can walk every hour in the day, with a heavy load on your back just to make a little money to feed your family. Children work as soon as they can walk; they are either an economic drain or asset and as soon as they make that transition the better for the whole family. The people here have a very hard life for very little financial reward.

Solidarity – I have allowed myself to be taken into the world of these people. I have been taken to places that I never thought I would go (3rd Floor Café Bar to watch the Charity Shield) and done things I never thought I would do (sit, bouncing around on the back row of a bus full of street boys on mountain roads that were hand-chiselled into the rock!). There were times when I though to myself: shall I drink this? Shall I eat this? Shall I go here? Shall I do this? I am glad that nearly every time I said yes. I have shared everything I have with these people and I have been rewarded with the title ‘habasha’!

Technology – Power cuts, dial-up internet shared by 4 PCs, dodgy phone lines, no texting… I have learnt to value the communications network in the UK, but also begun to realise that actually its not that necessary after all. You get by, and spend more time speaking to people and making committed arrangements with friends. It’s been nice. I may need to convince those many hundreds queuing in Mekele to get one of the 45,000 SIM cards being made available in the city for the Millennium…

“You couldn’t make it up if you tried…” – A well used to phrase over here that has brought non-stop laughter and disbelief to all of us in Ethiopia. The stories, the mistranslations, the randomness, and the sheer amazement of the things we have seen, heard and experienced. This is one amazing country, filled a huge number of amazing people, doing many amazing things!

------------------------------
What we spent your money on….

• A trip for 40 students to the Yohannis VI museum to learn about the history of Mekele.
• A trip for 20 students to the TPLF museum to learn about the modern political struggle of the people of Tigray.
• An overnight trip for 18 students to Alitena to play a game of football and generally enjoy themselves (perhaps too much!).
• Various educational resources that have helped us teach English to the students effectively. These are to be left for future volunteers.
• A large selection of Top Trumps and other card games.
• Equipment for the Sisters to continue their work across the 17 different projects working with the poor of Tigray.
• A certificate and photo for every child who has participated in English lessons.
• An exercise book and pen for every beneficiary – vital for their studies in Government schools which will resume in September.
• A selection of atlases, dictionaries and other ‘academic books’ for the project library.
• A large photo frame containing around 70 photos from our time in the project this summer (materials needed have been left with some of the artistic beneficiaries to produce the montage themselves)
• A smaller frame containing photos of the girls dressed for Ashenda to go in ‘their’ room (where the sewing and embroidery takes place).

The remainder of our fundraising, and this is actually the majority of the money, is going to be used to fund equipment for the new project building. CARITAS, CAFOD and others fund the on-going costs of the project work, and a generous anonymous UK-based company has paid for the actual building work of the new project. However, there is just simply very little money available to ‘kit out’ the new place. Tommy and I decided that through the above we have given gifts and experiences to the students of today, yet we wanted to leave a longer lasting testament to your generosity. Sr Medhin is going to keep me informed of exactly what the money is spent on, and hopefully include some photos! It is most likely to be essentials such as benches, desks, beds, white boards, shelving and so on. She looked relieved when we agreed to this; maybe we answer her prayers. No one we spoke to could really tell us where it would have come from otherwise. We both certainly felt this was a fantastic use of our fundraising and hope that you agree.

------------------------------

In summation, this has been one of the biggest honours and privileges of my life. I don’t have one single regret about coming out to Ethiopia and being involved with the work of the Daughters of Charity here. It has been enriching and educational to me ways I never though possible, and struggle to imagine a way in which I could have learnt more about both myself and others.

Our leaving party from the project was very special; poems were read, presentations were made, gifts exchanged. We clapped, we danced and we shed a few tears. I was okay until Sr Medhin read the parable of the sheep and the goats - and re-read the last line about serving the least of the people… these maybe the poorest economically and socially children in Mekele but they have shown me friendship and love without any boundaries or conditions over the last 6 weeks. The maybe ‘the least’ in some respects, but they are equally ‘the most’ in many more.

I do hope to return in the not to distant future, after all we now have a big family to visit in Mekele, but in the mean time I have some amazing memories that I will cherish until the day that I die. I can’t wait to get home and share just a few of them with you all!

Alitena (26/8)

On Friday morning, after I had coffee with the man in the bank and he invited me to Axum to celebrate the Millennium with his family, we left for Alitena with 18 highly excited boys. The bus alone was an experience… I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or not when the boys pointed out my reserved seat in the middle of the back row. At least I had a good view of everything and everyone but I was thinking that over 5 hours sat here, some over rough terrain, was going to try out both my patience and the padding of my buttocks. It was the closest thing the boys were probably ever going to get to a holiday, so I went with it, and off we departed over the mountains for our two day trip to Alitena.

----------------
Alitena could almost be lifted from the Alps; it nestles into 3000m+ mountains with only limited access from unmade winding roads. There were a lot prayers being said on the bus as our, luckily, expert driver negotiated various ruts, boulders and landslides. The boys taught me new ways to bless myself, which were much appreciated at times. I may have suffered from having various intimate parts of my body crushed as I flew sometimes a foot in the air with the bumps, but unlike, Tommy who was sat at the front, I didn’t have to look over every precipice!

We sang and we ate and we danced and picked up many people along the way. There is a few Birr to be made by offering a public bus service, even though there wasn’t really room, and we bought ‘color’ (roasted barley) and bananas – passed through the window - from people we met along the way. Much healthier than a Little Chef and a lot more fun! We also got surround by around 40 Ashenda dancers in one village and had to pay our way through…

We stopped in Adigrat, the centre of the Catholic Diocese that covers the Tigray region for lunch. Sr Fisseha and Sr Abeba (who was retuning home) went to find a restaurant and luckily a small hotel were accommodating. There was mass confusion from all when it came to ordering and the ‘new’ waiter really struggled! I found out later from one of the boys that most of the problems came from the fact we gave everyone a menu and told them to order whatever they liked. Most of them had never seen a menu, and if they had would head straight for the cheapest thing they could find. It was a real pleasure to see them ordering new things, getting a good bit of nutrition and protein down their necks and generally enjoying themselves. I watched with fascination as they quickly picked up on how to get the waiters attention, ask for more bread and all the other skills needed to negotiate an Ethiopian restaurant.

My appetite for injera had not really returned so I opted for the English, if not a little random, sounding ‘Hamburger with Rice’. It was 2Birr more expensive that the ‘Beef Burger with Rice’ and I assumed that it was a slightly better grade of meat. This was pretty much the last meal to appear from the kitchen, by which point the hotel manager was ready to swing at anyone after being continually aggravated by the ‘new’ waiter. Luckily John and Mikato were still waiting on their second dinner (they were sharing and so ate the first together, and waited for the second) so I had company. At which point a dried out little thing came out on a plate, “Sorry - no rice” (I was more sorry than him I think as I was pretty hungry!) and I would have put a large sum of money on it being a Tofu burger – it was certainly not meat. Only I could come all this way and have a sheep killed for me on Thursday and be presented with a veggie-burger on Friday. A commonly used phrase amongst us volunteers is “you couldn’t make it up if you tried”, and again we shared the sheer disbelief and comedy of it all.

We stopped at the Catholic Cathedral and learnt about the minor seminary (9th-12th grade – age 14+) and major seminary there, which have around 60 and 25 students respectively. This was good preparation for heading to the hotbed of holy orders, Alitena (I am yet to meet a priest or sister who is not from Alitena of there abouts). Various work was being done on the cathedral, presumably for the millennium, but the statue of Jesus on the top did look strikingly like superman. This naturally escaped the boys who were too obsessed with taking photos of themselves! Inside they were very reverent and appreciated all that the building had to offer – remember not one of them is Catholic but there was not one complaint even though our half hour stop over was taking up football practice time.

Around 5pm, we arrived at St Justin de Jacobis house in Alitena. This was built in 1973, but sadly occupied by Eritrean army forces for a long spell in the 90's and only recently re-acquired by the nuns around 2000. The sisters run various social development and pastoral programs have been implemented to improve the lives of those in the Irob Woreda (Irob District) – particularly in the larger towns of Alitena and Dawhan (nicknamed Dubai and Portsmouth by the locals – I tired so hard to find out why to no avail…). Strengthening the youth of the towns has been a priority – making them active members of the community involving themselves in HIV/AIDS prevention and addressing other social issues through clubs. They also speak yet another language here, Irobinian and so the usual greeting of ‘salem’ becomes ‘naga’ although most do speak Tigrinyian, Amharic and a little English too!

On our route, we have had come through Zelanbessa which was nearly completely destroyed by Eritrean bombing. It is heavily manned border post now, and although we were only checked twice by soldiers going to Alitena, we knew the checks would be far more regular and stringent coming back. The whole situation does feel very tense, and the sisters told us that most of the military presence is not actually visible. I’d counted a good few training camps, barracks, checkpoints and wandering soldiers so who knows what the actual presence in this area is. There are also curfews sometimes put in place at night making travel around the area impossible after dark – although perhaps that is a good thing given the precarious roads!

There are around a 100 people currently still ‘missing’ from Alitena. They are believed to be held somewhere unknown in Eritrea but no one is really sure. Many of these have been gone for over 10 years and include relatives of the sisters. We wanted to find out more about the war and the current situation, but there are still a lot of grief and hurt connected to the conflict so we have to ask our questions carefully. When it’s your first time to what is still classed as a post-war-zone it is difficult to work out how to behave.

Alitena is commonly known amongst the sisters as the ‘holy land’ and where nearly everyone we have met in Tigray who is Catholic is from. It was here that St Justin de Jacobis (who brought Catholicism to Ethiopia) and his follower, Abba Gebremichael, spent much of their time avoiding persecution.

The electricity to the village (population around 3,500) was only reconnected last year and there are still only two phone lines, which work on solar power. There is no employment here and no government assistance of any kind. There is still the threat of Eritrean invasion, and the small town really is on the front line. It has no economic benefits to Ethiopia, but is merely a political pawn – if Eritrea take Alitena (which has always, always been part of Tigray), then they will just keep on encroaching. Extreme poverty is caused by reoccurring drought and famine – although we saw relatively ‘green’ scenery due to this years heavy rainfall. That will hopefully mean for food this year and for next. We did see a few WFP (World Food Programme) buildings on the way in, but the sisters said they are rarely used, as the government ‘doesn’t like to admit they need help’. In many of the 20-30 hamlets and villages surround Alitena many families have only just returned to lives again after being ‘displaced’ by war. The mines were only swept 6 years ago, and Sr Abeba said that in the last you could hear the odd explosion set off by unfortunate cattle.

In Alitena, the sisters are maintaining a strong presence. The war may restart and they have to be ready for that; the three sisters who went with the refugees from the villages are no longer are no longer based St Justin’s and have retired to their home areas. They spent many years living in the mountains and caves with the people; it is hard to understand how these sisters willingly put themselves in this position. Sr Abeba simply said, “They went with the poor, that’s who they are here to serve.”

On the Saturday morning we visited the youth centre – where we played table tennis – the kindergarten and clinic. This is the only medical provision for a huge number of people in the surrounding area and its work is so vital to these people. It is run by Sr Bisrat and Alemesh – although Sr Bisrat had gone to Adigrat with two HIV patients so they could received treatment. Luckily it is only 2 hours by car, as the walk takes from 6am until 6pm – and that’s by the ‘short-cut’.

With the help of the sisters based here, there is a tremendous community spirit here. People rally round and show great unity and solidarity in any kind of crisis. The sisters promote cottage industries and saving schemes, they run a Woman’s Cooperative, the youth program, the Montessori kindergarten and the clinic. The people here are so dependent on outside support and help. They literally have nothing.

Why might you ask would we want to take the street boys to such a place?

Naturally, the answer was football. The Alitena team do not get a great deal of competitive fixtures and so using some of the money we had brought with us, we decided that our team could do with a small holiday, where we knew we would get first rate hospitality and some beautiful scenery.

Most of the boys had been no further than Wurko with John and Cahal; no more than 40km from Mekele. It was a really big deal for them to travel so far, for many it may well be the longest journey they ever make. During the trip we had to constantly remind ourselves what a big thing we were doing here, it is difficult to get a sense of perspective when your lives share so little in common.

Sitting down for dinner on the Friday, I wish I could have captured the moment of 18 ‘street boys’, sat around a long table, under the moonlight, surrounded by the mountains, eating all the food they could manage.

Saturday saw the football match (I was not picked after Friday’s training when I nearly died after running around for 30mins at 3000m!!), St Vincent’s beat Alitena 6-2 which saw the celebrations last way past Adigrat on the bus home… me Tommy and John spent most of the morning looking around, reflecting on the beauty and poverty. Alitena really is like turning back 100 years or so, but every single person we met was wonderfully welcoming and asking if next time we could stay for longer! The sisters there are desperate to volunteers to go and help them out, but due to a variety of reasons including the UNMEE (United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea) and army presence and the sheer remoteness of the place Sr Medhin is reluctant to send them out there (unless like John, who was here for 3 and ½ weeks) they know exactly what they are letting themselves in for.

I would have loved to walk some of the mountain paths where stones have been laid or paths cut into the rock face with hammer and chisel by the locals (indeed the road in was built by bare hands 32 years ago!). Some of our boys had got up at around 6am and walked some of them with the local boys with whom they had become instant friends. I’d imagine, like on the bus, the scenery and views blew their minds. It certainly did mine!

The bus journey home was all the better for staying for a ‘feast’ at Saturday lunchtime where a goat was killed in our honour and devoured by the hungry boys. I quite enjoyed the meat, but perhaps that was as I had not met the goat before hand. I had also quite fancied slaughtering the cock that had started to crow outside our window at around 4am (coincidently the boys bed time! 18 boys in one room always was a recipe for sleep deprivation…). We were also treated to ‘gezum’, a local delicacy only reserved for the very best guests – Tommy and John did a quick escape leaving me to try it. I’m not sure I will ever have stuffed goat’s intestines again – but it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it might be.

On our way home, we were checked numerous times by the army and police – we actually gave one army officer a lift from checkpoint to the next! Luckily we ‘passed’ every time and all the ID cards and school passes the boys had got them through without being suspected as Eritrean spies. We picked up more people, a car battery, some more ‘color’, 4 boxes of beles, empty glass coke bottles and all sorts – a bus journey through northern Ethiopia definitely has to be recommended for its randomness! However, seeing all the people walking for miles along the roadside carrying obiously very heavy loads, is a reminder that these people work very very hard for very little reward. The poor rural people of Ethiopia do live a very hard life.

As much as the boys loved their trip away, and had wanted to stay longer, they celebrated madly as we came over the mountain and saw the impressive sight of Mekele lit up at night. The shirts went out the window again and the clapping and singing started!

I do hope that this is a trip the boys won’t forget; for many reasons I certainly won’t. It was a relief to finally go to Alitena after hearing all John’s affectionate tales as well as it being the ‘homelands’ for every Catholic we meet. However, it is hard to imagine the lives of these people without the work of the Catholic Church. As Tommy pointed out, it’s a bit like a church with a load of beds attached! The people of the region are totally dependent on the education, medical care, social care, food, and everything else the sisters and the church provide. It is hard to comprehend without seeing it for yourself, but the work that takes place here is nothing short of truly amazing. I wish I could have helped out more in my short stay there; but it would be hard to forget Alitena and it’s wonderful people.

---------------
Sunday saw Aziz’s graduation and we had a big lunch celebration for her. In the evening we took her and the two other girls (Medhin and Alem Sahi) who are currently working at St Vincent’s to Yordano’s for dinner. A really pleasant evening, but it is starting to feel like we are going home…

TPLF (23/8)

Today I took my first ‘bagagg’, a little 4-stroke motorbike with some seats tacked on the back; they are very cheap little taxis with any ride costing 1Birr. I also had my first ‘bableno’ (a greasy, donut-like cake), which was absolutely gorgeous, and I am annoyed at myself for not sampling earlier! On top of this, I found printing digital photos is quite reasonable, but photocopying on to card is a total rip off… however every student in Abba Gebremichael will now have a certificate and a photo of Tommy and I as their parting gift on Monday.

In our second trip, we travelled through Adi-Haki (dodging Ashenda girls, it goes on for 3 days and is costing me a relative fortune!), up the hill to the ‘Monument’. There were a nice number of boys with us who were excited and looking forward to experiencing some of the more modern history of the region. To understand a little more about why this museum is important and why it had such a profound effect on some of the boys, it is important to understand a little about Ethiopian political history and some of what the people of this country have had to endure.

The TPLF, or Tigrayan People's Liberation Front, or even ‘Weyane’, are a political party in Ethiopia. They form part of the coalition that has ruled Ethiopia since the last election in 2005. The Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Deomcartic Front (EPRDF) won 327 of the 527 available seats, and the TPFL actually make up the biggest proportion of the EPRDF. There are many Tigrinyian’s sitting in governement, which gives great prominence to the region. In the regional elections, the TPFL won all 152 seats in Tigray.

The TPLF began in 1975 as the armed force, which together with Eritrean People's Liberation Front, fought against the authoritarian Derg regime of Mengistu Haile Mariam. EPRDF took power after the final collapse of the Derg in 1991. They then retained their power after an election victory in 1995, the first ever real election for the Ethiopian people. However, most opposition parties chose to boycott these elections; observers concluded that opposition parties would have been able to participate had they chosen to do so but this was still not true democracy.

Prime Minister Meles Zenawi's government was re-elected in 2000 in Ethiopia's first multi-party elections and then another general election was held in May 2005, which drew a record number of voters; 90% of the electorate turned out to cast their vote. However all was still not well: the opposition complained that the EPRDF engaged in rigging and intimidation. EPRDF complained their main opposition, the CUD (The Coalaition for Unity and Democarcy) had also engaged in intimidation. This lead to the massacre of 193 protestors by Ethiopian police, mainly in Addis Ababa, during protests in June and November of 2005.

Under the present government, the Ethiopian people enjoy greater political participation and freer debate than ever before in their history. On the other hand, there are some fundamental freedoms that are still not available including freedom of the press, and the writing of webblogs and the sending text messages! A few priest who visited us at St Vincent’s acknowlegd that whilst there are worse African contries to live in, that Ethiopia was pretty much still a dictatorship in disguise.

These recent polictics strugles are relatively minor in light of what they proceed: ‘The Derg’. This group was a miliatary junta that came to power after the overthrowing of Emporer Jaile Selassie in 1974. Derg means ‘committee in Ge’ez and is the short name for the ‘Coordinating Committee of the Armed Forces, Police, and Territorial Army’; their rule lasted until 1987. The Derg executed and imprisoned tens of thousands of its opponents without trial in a terrible period of history for Ethiopia. Campaigns such as ‘Red Terror’ and enfroced resettlement programmes displaced millions and around 100,000 reportedly lost their lives in the resettlement programmes alone.

The famines of the 1980’s brough Ethiopia to the attention of the world, an image that many people still have of this country. Controversially, some funds raised for the people ended up in the Derg’s hands, as they controlled several NGO’s (Non-Governmental Organisations). The Derg repeatidly failed the people they were in place to serve and there are countless stories of how much needed aid never reached the people who were staving to death, particually in the north of country. The resentment has still not been overcome; this, afterall, is very modern history and in many a living memory.

The Derg government officially came to an end in 1987 upon the formation of the People's Democratic Republic of Ethiopia. However, Major Mengistu Haile Mariam remained in power as President of the new government, as he had done since 1974.

1991 finally saw the end of the Mengistu governement as a coalition of rebel forces, including a very large contingent from the TPLF, took over Addis Ababa. The EPRDF had succeeded. By December 2006, 72 officials of the Derg were found guilty of genocide.

And so, the TPLF are now based in Mekele and have built a large monument, museum and conference centre to remember all those who died in the long struggle for freedom in Ethiopia. Many Tigrinyian’s sacraficed their lives to liberate the country – starting with the north – from the evil Derg regime. The 51m high tower, reaches over the whole of the city creating a striking and poigniant reminder to what these people suffered. It was built in 1993 and as well we being a memorial, it also house a museum which features TPLF equipment, weaponry and many many photos. Progress is also celebrated at the complex with a state of the art theatre, conference and arts centre. It was here that the Abba Gebremichael drama group won a recent award – third in Tigray.

Very little seems to have been written about the post-Haile Selassie Ethiopia, book shops look at you blankly, yet I have been fortunate enough to have been loaned a hisotrical novel entitled the Meaza of Ethiopia wirtten by a white farther living in Adigrat called Kevin O’Mahoney. It had me in tears in places descirbing stories of broken families due to the Derg regime, yes it is a novel but it is based upon true events. I hope to meet the athour this weekend and acquire a few copies to bring home to share with others the tragedy that took place here way beyond ‘the Live Aid famines’ of 1984. It is heartbreaking that alongside the poverty, drought and famine there was a governemnet in place who had no regard for human life in any capacity.

The boys were visably moved, and some of them listed family members who had TPLF involvement. Stories of the revolution seem to be passed on by friends and family and so there was a certain mythical and legend slant to many of the stories. There was great respect for those who had given up their lives, and great pride for those who were now in powerful governement positions. The Tigray region has a very solid and distinct idenity; maybe that’s why nearly every boy in the project headed down to the stadium this morning to watch Tigray U17s win 5-0. Maybe they are just fed up of me and Tommy’s English lessons…

It was certainly another worthwhile outing, but we spent too much time there (surprise surpise, lots of photos!) and missed dinner. Having a great sense of responsbility we tried to treat all the boys to dinner at a restaurant, we managed to convince them to share injera but nothing more. Around ten boys were fed on less than £2.

---------------------
One of the boys today gave me some photos which he had signed on the back, bascially saying thank you. It was a simple but touching gesture and these small items I will treasure and look upon and remember all the good times. I arranged to meet this oy to go to Photo Desta to pick up all our photos, he was keen as I had developed a few extra for him and some of the others who have made a big effort to look out for us. He wasn’t about so I went on my own…

As soon as I got home, my mobile rang (the one CAFOD lent me for my time here) and it was the boy wondering where I was. Theere are loads of ‘phone shops’ where you can mke calls from and I guess the boys call me so often as they really enjoy going in and making a phone call, to a mobile phone, and then speaking in English. I guess, if only for a little while it transports them into that world of which they hope and dream to be one day really part of.

Whoeever gets the phone next just better be wary of Danny, Gary and the boys phoning them up!
--------------------------

Just to let you know Tommy nor John nor I ate very much of Stuey… he tasted pretty horrible and I don’t understand why they don’t kill the poor sheep a little earlier as they meat is so touch and chewey! Irene, the German lady from CARITAS was the only one to make a real statement about it…

Ashenda & ‘Stuey’ (23/8)

Everyone had given me a very sceptical look when I said that I was going to go to 5.30am mass, as it was only an hour (6.30am mass was 2 hours plus). I had the best intentions; it was a holy day of obligation – even though it fell a week later than the rest of the Catholic world. My alarm duly went off at 5.15am, it didn’t feel too bad, but as the church is less than a minutes walk away I thought I could allow myself just 5 minutes more in bed…

I re-awoke at 8.45 and Tommy and John were still not back from 6.30am mass! The majority of the service is standing and all in Ge’ez so not a word was understood. I felt bad and decided that any child from the project I saw today I would get some food for. It wasn’t exactly following the Catholic Church’s teaching, but I thought that God would probably forgive me on this occasion. I probably would have also bought the children food too regardless of whether or not I missed mass.

----------------------

Today is Ashenda. This is a cultural festival that falls on the Assumption. It’s day for the girls and our girls from the project have been excited and preparing for weeks.

I was already in the good books with the girlies as I had provided them with a big bag of hair bobbles, ribbons, ties et cetera from kind people back at home. For the previous few days I had had lots of ‘thank yous’ and hugs from them. It’s hard not to have a big soft spot for the girls at the project; they are relatively new and are a very small minority. The boys often take most of our attention, but a simple smile to one of the girls sees their faces light up. They are so sweet and I do love it when they drag themselves away from embroidery and needlecraft sessions to come to my English lessons. I always make a fuss of them and try my best to build their often very low confidence. It’s also nice to have a conversation that isn’t about football…

I had been about to begin (honest!) my work for the day, when I could hear the sound of the drum banging and ‘ashenda, ashenda’ being sung repeatedly from nearby. I came around the corner from my room and saw all 20 of our girls dancing around the main courtyard of St Vincent’s looking absolutely beautiful in white cotton dresses with blue embodied flowers.

They were so full of joy, fun and happiness. I can’t remember when I last saw such big smiles. The thought of it now, late on in the evening, has brought back a grin to my face. Tommy, John and I were dragged into the dancing and I was relieved I had been practising! Zanta grabbed me and fought the other girls off as we danced around, clapped and posed for photos.

It is tradition that on Ashenda the girls get dressed up in their best cultural clothes and spend three days singing and dancing around town. They surround and pester any males they come across until they pay them some money. This is then held up and the girls make their way on around the town. A few coins get you off the hook and there is no bad feeling from anyone.

This year the project had provided them with new outfits. I asked Sr Fisseha about this over dinner and she told me what had happened last year… The girls had not gone round Mekele together. There were two groups; one just went around a small area near their houses and only collected a very small amount of money, the other visited St Vincent’s, local cafés and other local places businesses collecting a large amount of money. The two groups wouldn’t go round together and this upset Sr Fisseha. However, without encouragement, this year they decided to go around together. Sr Fisseha was naturally delighted, but decided to get them the outfits when she heard about how the uniting happened: the girls who had made lots of money last year were really upset that the others hadn’t made much and this year insisted that they all go round together.

The transformation from the timid and shy girls in Abba Gebremichael to happy, joyful young ladies dancing for Ashenda was completed when Zanta, after our dance, grabbed me from behind and gave me a big hug and kiss. This lead to everyone getting in on the act and there was hugs and kisses going on all over the place. I really can’t put it all into words, but I know it will be one of the best memories from my time in Ethiopia.

-------------------
Later on, I found out John had taken the boys out for lunch. He had been taken on a ‘football tour’ of the town and was shown the stadium and training pitches, and he ‘rewarded’ them with food. I’m not naïve enough to think that they didn’t know what they were doing – but reassuring to know they don’t expect anything for nothing and provided an expert insight into their lives and the most important buildings in town first!

I then found them loitering near Guna; the trouble is without the project there is also nothing to break up their day. I told them I needed help putting names to faces on a few photos printed out and that I would take them for juice for their help. They were a bit reluctant to come with me, and said that John had already taken them for lunch. I joked and said I wasn’t going to buy them cake- only juice, Mirinda or tea - and they came along smiling.

I was tired and didn’t actually feel in the mood for the conversation which can be very draining, but I remembered what I had said to myself this morning and I also knew, the sensitive souls that they are, that the boys probably felt a bit left out of Ashenda – even though they get most of the attention most of the time! I was also aware that they are already getting upset about us leaving, and I know that as soon as I step into Heathrow airport, I’ll be looking at what time the next flight to Addis Ababa departs….

We actually had a good hour and a half of chat in Milkano – I know most of the waitresses in there now and my tipping must have been adequate enough as the service gets better and quicker with each visit! Daniel took me through the CDs of Tigrinyian and Amharic music he has bought for me; I sent him out with 40Birr and he has come back with two custom made CDRs with both modern and traditional music on. I encourage the boys to take a few Birr when they run errands, and I know if anything they would undercharge me (as Gary tried when I sent him to photocopy the songbook – another 20 copies were required so EVERYONE could join in).

The conversation moved on and after making Gebreyohannis stand up and name every part of his body in English (VERY funny), it came on to Ashenda. This lead to a group of sullen faces; Ashenda as well as being a time for girls, is a time for the family. I pointed out to Gary that at least he was with a big group of his friends, and he simply replied, “It’s not a family though is it?”.

I did feel terrible about even contemplating not taking these boys out today. It is difficult when you are living it all day everyday, having to make decisions about what you will and won’t do, what will be of benefit, what will cause more problems in the long run and so on. I was reminded of the ‘starfish’ story that I heard for the first time from Fr Dominic; a man sees another man walking along the beach picking up starfish and throwing them back into the sea so they don’t dry out. There are thousands scattered up and down the shore and the first man, puzzled asks, “What are you doing?”. “Throwing the starfish back into the sea so that they don’t die.”, the second answers. “But there are so many here, you’ll never possibly save them all.”, says the first man. The second man picks up another starfish and throws it into the sea, “Made a difference to that one.”

I was quizzed on when we were leaving and the boys were working out so we could spend as much time as possible at the project on Tuesday before we fly. They also asked me to arrange some things for them before we leave… firstly they are desperate for certificates! At this point, Efram produces a pristine certificate from 2 years ago produced my Michael and Maria from inside his exercise book. I have no idea how it has been kept so smart, but it suddenly dawned on me that for many of these children, perhaps the English certificates produced by volunteers will be the biggest academic achievement that they will ever receive.

Secondly, they want photos of us to keep. Many of them have little business card holder-type wallets with a variety of photos in. They seem very important to many of them and many have a story for each picture. I guess when you have so little, the memories of the good times are hugely important. I said I would see what I could do, a little apprehensive about going into photo Desta to ask for 100 copies of a photo of myself…

----------------------

At dinner, Sr Fisseha, who has been on the workshop wanted to know if Tesful had been back to the project. I said that he hadn’t, but perhaps due to his involvement in the football. She said that as soon as we get back from Alitena she will visit his house and speak to the neighbours about possible relatives to look after the children. It is not looking like a strong possibility as since the father died 12 years ago there has been no relative support even though the mother only worked as a cleaner at a hotel for food scraps. Sr Fisseha was a little frustrated as she wished she knew the mother was ill. She explained to me that the project does all it can to give medical care to parents; it’s better to fund a little medical care for a parent than care for two or three orphans. The cost of a little medicine really can make a difference out here; its just many cannot afford even a few Birr to help themselves and their family.

----------------------

Lastly, my adventures eating meat again after many years (mainly due to Ethiopians having even less of an idea about vegetarianism that then French) may be very short lived.

Ethiopians fast on a Wednesday and Friday (no meat or dairy) and so the feast for the Assumption is to take place on Thursday. However, the meat for the feast arrived the day before.

Unfortunately he was still running around and going ‘baaaa’.

Tommy, John and I are having real issues with the fact the sheep will be slaughtered, butchered and then turned into wat (stew) tomorrow at St Vincent’s. It wouldn’t have been so bad had I know made friends with ‘Stuey’ the sheep first, thinking he was here to eat a few weeds and keep the grass down. The sisters are all very excited and I think Naomi’s suggestion of a freedom mission with my new friend would not have gone down well. I’d also have to get ‘Stuey’ past the guard and he is pretty noisy and the guard is also the butcher…

Pizza (22/8)

Today was a tough lesson for us both.

There was a strange atmosphere in the project. Everyone today realised that we had just one week left and there was a raw emotion from many of the children who were almost panicking about us leaving. I found this a little difficult to deal with. Daniel had listed off 20 volunteers in the café the night before to me, giving a story about each, which had been on my mind a lot as I tossed and turned in bed. What I have done here will really leave a lasting impression. That’s a nice feeling in many ways, but creates lots of other emotions that didn’t help my current confused and mixed feelings.

We had brought John along to the project this morning; introduced him and told the children about how he was going to carry on their English lessons. The children had thought we organised John’s arrival for them, to lessen the blow of us leaving. I think at this point, if I could have somehow slipped out the back door, I really would have been more than happy.

Tommy has been wearing white a "Make Poverty History" plastic wristband. He had a supply brought from SCIAF and had been discretely distributing them to the children if and when they asked about the message on it. There was a certain irony about these very poor children wearing them with such pride, but I knew they agreed with the message, and when one of the boys came up to me and proudly said, “We need to help those people who are living in poverty”, I wanted to ask him if he knew that he was one of the people that needed help to get out of poverty. He obviously didn’t consider himself to be suffering the effects of poverty, even as he was stood there with holes in his shoes and no place to call home.

I have no idea how the situation arose, but all of sudden everyone wanted one of these bands and we lost total control. Tommy knew that he didn’t have one for every child and I felt really sorry for him as he ducked and dived trying to avoid eye contact. All of a sudden smiles turned into dagger-eyes and sheer dejection as shouts of “me, ME!” could be heard echoing around. There was near blows from some of the boys. I actually found it all a little scary.

We are both guilty of forgetting what life is like as a street child. Everything takes on different meaning and significance. All of a sudden, these worthless items became a powerful personal gift. Perhaps they were seen as a token of love, or of acceptance? It was upsetting for Tommy as he had only the very best of intention and the experience ended up being one of great distress.

It was another reality check, if we had had the chance to become complacent, about the reality of this unique world. I also still remember that these are the very same boys who would share every Birr they had, their one meal of the day or their tatty Man Utd shirt with me if they thought I needed it.

Yesterday, just before leaving for lunch, Thgebrehan (the sports coach) had used his barber skills to re-shave my head and turn my full-on beard into a goatee (“like the habashsa”). I had been a little hesitant to jump in the chair, knowing the same clippers had just been used on a succession of the street children, but ‘carpe diem’ and all that. Luckily Thgebrehan used both alcohol and lit alcohol to clean the clippers. I had about 40 boys crowded round me loving every minute of my haircut. Not one bit of my hair got near the floor as it was snatched up by the boys to keep – they had never had a piece of faranji hair in their possession! “It’s SOO soft!”, the cries went. Thgebrehan was very nervous about cutting my hair, but I think he ended up enjoying it. He did an excellent job and I was even more one of the boys now; I’d had my hair cut ready for Ashenda!

Ashenda was to be celebrated the following day. This is both a religious (Assumption according the Ethiopian calendar) and a cultural day, and as a consequence the project was to be shut. The news was told to the class, and rarely have I seen such dejection and sorrow in young faces. I was in full flow of teaching about adverbs and the lesson never really recovered.

After the afternoon session, the day’s task was to see if we could get John’s guitar repaired. British Airways had let him down and the neck was nicely broken into two parts. We began walking with a few of the older boys, as well as the usual crowd. By the time we reached the square, about half a mile down the road, we must have been 40 strong. No-one wanted to leave us.

Again, we hadn’t thought things through. No project means no food. Tuesday lunchtime to Thursday breakfast is a long time for anyone, let alone a growing and active teenager who is sleeping rough somewhere. These situations are incredibly difficult to deal with; there are all kinds of thoughts going on. Do you feed those that you can? Do you feed none of them to be ‘fair’? Do you feed those who will hang around not far from St Vincent’s in the vague hope you’ll walk by and offer to take them for injera? Do you organise a time to meet? Do you leave it to chance? Do you give them a bit of money and tell them to sort themselves out? Do you let them chose where to eat? All these questions and a thousand more were racing through my head.

Feeling a little cowardly, I really didn’t want to address the situation, and I was feeling a little relieved that I had a lot of work to do on my laptop the following day. I could also sense John’s feelings of difficulty as a new comer to this situation. He wanted guidance and I had no idea what to say.

We left the boys outside Guna Sports Bar, their favourite haunt. I took John to meet Jose and Robbi in Enet, there wasn’t much conversation as we were both feeling terrible. Just for effect, I think, it started to rain. The boys would be wet now too…

I am glad that we had already made the decision to go to Yordano’s for dinner. I feel terrible for saying this now, but pizza brought great comfort, as did the two glasses of Axumite (Ethiopian sweet red wine). Me, Tommy and John spoke at length about what had happened over the last few days and tried to sort out some of our emotions and feelings. We had only known John for 24 hours but he had a quick introduction to life with the street children and the joys and pains that come in quick succession. They don’t give you a minute to think and maybe that is the best way most of the time.

A Redraft (21/8)

Sundays, like back at home, are often a day of doing as little as possible and last Sunday here was very similar. We had all gone to mass at the Don Bosco school on the Saturday night so I knew that I could have a lie in – Orthodox chanting (wailing) and drumming dependant – and then get away with doing relatively little all day. This is obviously great, but does give you too much time to think – and if you’ve never been warned before – thinking is a very dangerous pastime.

Actually, Sunday morning meant a trip up to the football stadium. I was up at 8am and found a note under my door from Tommy (as per usual, he was up first!). There are regional football finals taking place in the Mekele Stadium over the next week or so and two of the beneficiaries are playing in the Under 17 team. One is a boy called Haftom who was a brilliant student in my class for the one English lesson he turned up for (and we laugh about this together now), the other was Tesful who had lost his mother on Friday.

A group of the boys who attend the project had been selected to set off the fireworks for the opening ceremony and then act as ball-boys. At first I found this a little odd, that when the city was making a big fuss of this tournament – stadium repainted, lots of VIPS etc- that they would ask ‘the streetboys’ to take charge of these prominent and important jobs. However, they completed their jobs with commitment and diligence. I guess it’s not just me and Tommy and the sisters who realise just what potential these children have, regardless of the label they have. I certainly felt a little guilty for my initial thoughts and took great pride watching them carry out their jobs.

By this point, Tommy and I had been moved into the grandstand with all the aforementioned VIPS. We were told by some of the Tigray football officials that we were very honoured guests – we were the only two white people in a crowd of over a thousand – and even ended up getting seats with the sports ministers and other important Ethiopian FA officials. Maybe, like the boys, they thought we were Rooney and Ferguson on their summer holidays! We didn’t really want to, and naturally made sure that the boys could still come and find us (dodging the federal police with their rifles), but felt it would cause more offence if we didn’t sit there!

Tigray won 3-1. Afar walked off the pitch after the third goal, but later returned after officials and the previously mentioned federal police intervened. Haftom was on the bench, got warmed up, but never came on. Tesful was in the stand and we both went and gave him a big hug. The whole Tigray squad were all wearing black armbands as an act of solidarity and Tesful also told me that a group of the boys had been coming over to his house to help him and his sister who is just 11. When Daniel was falling asleep in my lesson on Monday I knew exactly where he had been all night.

The first of the Sisters guests had arrived by lunchtime. They are holding a four-day planning workshop with CARITAS Germany who are the biggest donor to the street children project. Since the last budget was worked out, the project have begun providing food for all beneficiaries and there are still some things CARITAS don’t fund such as social work for the families as well as the students and the loaning of capital to older beneficiaries to help them get on their feet. Sr Medhin, Sr Fisseha and Sr Abeba (who worked with the project before moving to Alitena) have a long week of target setting, evaluations and forward planning – we’re all hoping and praying that everything goes to plan so the good work can continue.

For me the afternoon was spent largely on the settee talking to Sr Fisseha and Sr Abeba. Tommy also joined us and we discussed whether or not on the following Saturday we would be going on from Alitena to Axum for some sightseeing or not. It was decided that we would not.

We have done a minimum of visits outside of the project, but we are both happy with that. Our visits have largely involved the children, and I certainly wouldn’t have had it any other way- next time, I want them to come to Marian Korkor too! I came here to work with the children of Abba Gebremichael; I can come back some day to be a tourist. Going to Axum would have also meant not watching football with the boys on Sunday, and possibly losing half, if not all of Monday – our last full day with these very special children in Mekele.

I guess the fact that we were only here for a short time longer was beginning to dawn on us.

We both agreed that actually we hadn’t dealt with, nor properly processed, much of what we have seen, heard and experienced. Its not like we haven’t had the chance, there has been time, and Tommy and I (and John when he was here) talked about the children for hours on end. I guess I feel like while I am here I can look after them, and teach them, and take them to dinner, and keep them out of trouble. In a weeks time I’ll be on a plane home, to a place many thousands of miles away.

I do feel ready for home though; there are a lot of mixed emotions going on. I am missing a lot of things and a few people very very dearly. Africa is a long way from Essex, and for a first time doing work like this, 6 weeks is a long enough time. It was frustrating and upsetting that the two calls I got on Sunday evening from Naomi and my mother were on such bad lines that I couldn’t hear a word they said. I really needed to chat, but it wasn’t to be. I then returned to my room and wrote what was my most depressing, pessimistic and negative blog entry yet. It focused on all the very sad things I had seen and heard and I forgot about the love and joy and happiness and hope that I have experienced here alongside all the difficulties.

Luckily, by Tuesday I still had not posted it because I knew where it needed to go – into the ‘recycle bin’. That explains the back log of entries, for which I apologise.

It is very easy to have days when you feel what you are doing here is just a drop in the ocean. You feel that whatever you are doing it is just a very brief moment in the lives of these children. I’ve taught them English for an hour today, but where are they going to sleep? I’ve taken them for a mango juice, but where will they eat on Sunday? I’ve taken them to the museum for the afternoon, but how are they ever going to get a job? I was also think a great deal about Tesful and his sister, I was thinking of Marc, another beneficiary aged 10, whose roof has fallen in on his house (his father is disabled and does not leave his bed), I was thinking of the homes I had been to visit, I was thinking about going home to my life and all my comforts.

I have been warned that the transition back home is harder than the one out here. Actually it is quite easy to get used to the children and their lives. As soon as you know a poor person and they becomes a human being, it is easy to love and to care for them. During the last 5 weeks we have got to know some of the poorest children living in one of the world’s poorest countries; yet I have also been taught so much. About love; about hope; about dreams; about service; and about truly caring for others.

Monday evening saw the arrival of John Bradley, another Irishman. He has taken a leave of absence from his job as an accountant with PriceWaterhouseCoopers to spend 3 months with the Sisters. He is another Vincentian Lay person, like John O’Callaghan. I was lead to believe he was just 20 years and about to take the ‘Ma Mouche’ title from me, but after a lot of ‘pulling my foot’ (!?) by the sisters, they revealed that he was actually 27.

I found it a really positive experience to feel that someone would directly be following on from us. I didn’t want to ruin his experience by giving him too much information but after the project we took him to Milkano with a large group of the boys. There were many of the usual suspects who join us each day who I know will look after John, as they have done us.

These are the group that have the strongest English, and enjoy helping us out with shopping and other errands around town. They have made a big effort from the start and seem to be the group that always ends up spending most time with all the volunteers. They are also the group that includes those who are more ‘street’ that others in the project as many have nowhere to actually call home. I guess it also about survival and they know that they will be looked after in return for their friendship and ‘guard skills’. – They are very concerned about me and Tommy staying in Addis as the ‘tiefs’ (theifs) even steal cars there!

One such of these is Mogus, one of Tommy’s students and aged just 12. Me and him have gone past the handshake-shoulder stage to developing our own handshakes which he loves. I’ll shake his hand all day long, as it brings a smile to otherwise tired and sad eyes. He sleeps in a sports bar; only allowed in at closing time and not allowed in during the day.

We teach yet another Ethiopian how to take a photo with a digital camera (you cannot buy one in Mekele and it is great amusement to all here) and the waitress takes a fantastic group picture of us all enjoying our juice. Even Mogus has a big grin.

-------------------------

The boy who gave Tommy the note asking if I would take him back to England with me today plucked up the courage to ask me if I had got it. I said yes. He just stood their grinning, hands behind his back.

I’ll never know what he thought I was going to say.

I said thank you, but that it was not possible and had to walk away before I burst into tears.

48 hours on I still don’t know what I should have said. He didn’t come to the project on Tuesday. I felt like crap.

School Trip 18/8

A ‘school trip’ has the power to create great excitement amongst children, and a feeling of apprehension amongst organisers. A few days organisation and me and Tommy’s afternoon ‘off’ to see the Emperor Yohannis IV museum in Mekele had turned into a full scale outing for the children of Abba Gebremichael. There were no complaints on our part, but we were a little unsure of how exactly it would work out…

Luckily we had had another easy going morning, the under 14’s team had a fixture and there was yet again mass exodus down to the football ‘field’. This was at one of the training pitches that had been bulldozed just a few days before, and coupled with the rain, had produced a mud bath! The opposition team did not turn up and so we enjoyed the spectacle of around 40 youngsters tearing around for an hour and half sliding over and falling in puddles, half disappearing into trenches and all round general comedy. It was quite a scene walking back through the streets all caked in mud, but as always, smiling. It was back to the project for clothes washing, showers and a semi-naked parade by the boys who just wanted to be photographed whilst posing in their pants!

Emperor Yohannis IV ruled Ethiopia from 1872 until 1889 and came to power after beating Emperor Tekle Giyorgis at the battle of Asum on 11th July 1871. He had previously been a powerful lord, known as Kasa Mercha of Tigray; one of three that ruled over Ethiopia whilst the British still had presence in the country. After they left, Emperor Tekle Giyorgis claimed control over the whole country, but Kasa Mercha was not prepared to ignore his ambition for supremacy and was eventually crowned in Axum.

Given that both his original territory was in the north of the country and that the Italian and Egyptian empires were growing and becoming a threat in the north, Emperor Yohannis IV chose Mekele as one of his main bases, building a large castle on top of the hill in the middle of the city. It is this building which now houses the museum detailing the older history of Mekele.

It is a half hour walk from the project to the museum and the heat was blistering. As usual, Ethiopian’s still think that this is relatively cool weather, but Tommy and I were breaking a decent sweat! It was a pretty impressive procession as we walked down the middle of most roads, with the little taxis swerving to avoid us. It’s very common for many teenage boys and men to hold hands as they walk down the street; it is a strange sight at first and one that took a little getting used to. Whereas in Western culture it would only be couples holding hands, here it’s all the men! It’s worth noting that alongside text messages, and web blogs, homosexuality is illegal here too.

However, the boys were desperate to hold our hands whilst periodically stopping and insisting on wiping our sweaty palms on their jumpers. I tried to stop them, but they were having none of it. In the way that they always carry our bags, the way in which these children care us for is nothing short of amazing, and often very humbling; anything they can do for us, they will. Other examples of this include Aquello who used his bare hands to scrape the mud from my shoes after the football, or Ifram who today paid 50cent to buy me a couple of beles. You can try to stop them, but its hard to win!

Tommy ended up covered in mud as the boy he was walking with refused to let go of his hand as they went round a puddle and ended up falling in after attempting to mount the curb. It did look pretty funny, but I’m sure Tommy did not fully appreciate the humour of the situation until later on in the day! Gebreyesus wanted to spend 1Birr on some tissues to clean him up, but Tommy refused. This was yet another example of their kindness and generosity towards us, remember an average worker gets paid just 7 or 8Birr a day – these boys have no jobs, earn a few cents where they can, and still will give their last cent to us if we’d let them. They willingly share anything they have, and their only concern is with others. This is a boy who often sleeps on the street and considers himself lucky as a local hotel lets him eat their leftovers.

On an interesting side note, I also had my first proposition from an Ethiopian girl who, as we walked through the busy city centre, asked if she could hold my hand instead of the boys. The boys got very excited about this saying ‘habasha chick, habasha chick’ (local girlfriend) and she got very embarrassed. I was equally red faced, but it was a nice reminder that as well as humbling you, these boys will also set you up for a laugh!

For most of the children, this was their first visit to the museum. Government school visits to the museum are reserved for the top few students in each class, so again we were able to transport our children into a great-unknown world. However, it was one they embraced and appreciated more than I can put into words. They were so grateful and interested in every word the guide had to say, some even got out their notebooks making notes on their city’s history.

According to government rules, photographs are strictly forbidden in museums. However after our initial row with the guide (and his rifle carrying assistant), we agreed a reasonable entrance fee AND he encouraged our photos- even taking a group photo for us! The children listened to every word the guide had to say (in Tigrinyian and English), whilst insisting on being guides for Tommy and I, they insisted on having their photo taken in front of every single exhibit!

It was then the march back through the town that ended up being largely dominated by a conversation between Daniel and myself. He had refused to come into the museum, as we had had to pay for everyone to enter and he had not wanted us to ‘lose money’ on him. I explained to him that there were a lot of very generous people back in England who had given me money to spend on people just like him. I went on to say that they would only be pleased with me if I could say that I have treated the children of the project and taken them out and made sure they had a good time. He laughed and told me I was a good liar.

“Why would anyone in England want to give their money to us?”, he went on, “I don’t believe you Andy, you’re just going to end up losing all your money on us!”. I again tried to make him understand that I have a lot of very kind friends and family and that they wanted me to make a big difference in Mekele. I told him that everything that I am doing is actually partly a reflection of them and their hopes, and that there are lots of people reading my diary on the internet interested in everything that is going on. “Really?”, he asked and I could feel him starting to get it. There was then a period of silence and conversation with some of the younger boys went back on to the subject of finding the ‘habasha chick’ for me…

Later Daniel asked me if I was going to come back next year. I was honest and told him that I had no idea. He said, “All the volunteers always promise to come back. Cahal did, Anna did, but none of the others. I guess they can’t get the holiday.”. I have no idea who he is talking about really, but it is impossible to put a measure on how much these children value those who come out here and work with them. They really do never forget. Fr Michael is returning soon, and I know John, Tommy and myself all hope and pray that one day we’ll return here.

------------------------------------------------

The difficulties of life in Ethiopia, lest you forget for a minute, were brought home last night as went for dinner with all the sisters and Rory and John, before they returned to Addis and then Ireland.

A phone call from Daniel to my mobile – the boys have my number somehow – brought the bad news that Sr. Fisseha was already aware of. The mother of one of the boys at the project had passed away, leaving him orphaned.

The usual Saturday morning coffee ceremony was postponed as the children all rallied round their friend, attended the funeral and visited the house. They really do treat one another with the love of brothers and sisters, like one big family. It’s not going to be easy for Tesfa, but at least he has his friends and the project staff, I’d imagine there’s many more on the streets of the city who don’t.

Solidarity? (15/8)

I had had enough of coke and coffee (mixed together), which is the Ethiopian secret cure for upsets stomachs. It tastes vile and as much as you are still feeling ill you are bursting at the eyeballs with caffeine! Enough was enough and I returned to school, however not lessons.

On arrival at Abba Gebremichael we discovered that most of the beneficiaries had headed off to the Fr Tino stadium to watch our team, St Vincent’s take on the Under-17 Tigray team. We rounded up those who were left and bundled them into a taxi to take us the 4 or 5 miles out to the sports ground.

The Tigray Under-17 team looked an impressive outfit. All in matching tracksuits and with their Under-15 team watching on, they looked pretty unbeatable. There was the added excitement of the regional TV news reporters being there as well as local press photographers. Saturday sees the start of a national competition hosted in the Mekele Stadium where Tigray will be playing against all the other regions to find the national champions. No wonder these boys looked very fit and very keen!

The photographer insisted on taking our photos (perhaps for some special story on how Wayne Rooney and Alex Fergueson had come to watch?!) and I was quizzed by one of the TV guys on what Tigray’s tactics for the tournament would be. I could have had a lot of fun and had my five minutes of Tigrinyian TV fame, but by the time I realised what was happening our boys had scored! It may have been a one-goal consolation against the eight they had conceded, but it didn’t really matter. This was like Southend taking on Brazil and they had clawed one back!

Luckily Geree the driver picked us all up in the ‘team bus’ at the end and we rode through the streets jubilant. “St Vincent’s are the only team that also sing when we lose”, one of the boys proudly boasted. The horn was beeping, the hazards flashing, shirts were waved above heads, and the singing and banging was deafening as I hung out the window and joined in! I did feel sorry for the chap being booked by the police man at the roundabout as our truck cruised by with 30 screaming boys jumping around in the back causing a general disturbance and any number of public order offences! However apparently, in the eyes of the law, anything goes if it is the name of sport…

The day of teaching was further curtailed as we arrived back at the project to find out we were going on a home visit.

Bumping up and down in the 4x4 as we went through the slums of Adi-Haki, I had one of my moments of ‘Am I really here? Really?’. We parked up and approached the house, picking our way across a muddy field. The house belongs to a family that consists of a 16-year old girl who attends the project, her younger sister (around 7ish), her mother who suffers from chronic asthma and possibly their father. The house was very small, approximately 2.5m by 2.5m, but had two beds made of piled up boulders and stone. The walls were made from a boulders and a mud-like plaster, topped of with a tin roof filled with holes; with the current rain it must get ever so damp in the house. There was no electricity or water supply, just a small oil lamp and charcoal burner. As a result, the rent was just 25Birr a month. The mother said that she earns 30Birr a month working one day a week making injera for a rich lady.

Given both the size and construction, the house did not smell damp and even though I was unsure about it, the bed offered a little comfort. The house was definitely one of the better of those I have seen around the area; it is important to remember that all these people are very poor, its about just working out which ones need extra assistance from the sisters very limited resources.

There was part of me that wanted to take a few photographs to let people back at home know exactly the kind of houses that these people live in, in particular this ‘good’ house, but it just felt inappropriate. I had been invited in and welcomed as a guest; it just didn’t feel right to be then taking photos. I certainly wouldn’t do that back home, so I’m not sure exactly why I should do it here.

On leaving Sr Fisseha explained to me that it is hard to get the true and accurate history and circumstances of a family. There are usually different versions of how many brothers and sisters there are, where the mother is, what income they have, illnesses etc. It brings home how difficult it is for the sisters in differentiating one poor family from the next; who is the most poor and needy? It takes much strength and courage to do this job on a day-to-day basis; the sisters continue to be an example to me of great service and discipleship at every single moment, and always with not a moan or complaint.

I found it a very quietly and personally humbling experience. I know exactly what the place I call home is like, and I now know what the children in our care at the project call home. To talk to the girl, you’d never know; she is always well presented, intelligent, warm, friendly and happy. I wanted to at least call someone to fix the holes in her roof, and replace the coffee her mother had offered us.

-----------------------------------------------

I am starting to get an idea of what ‘living in solidarity with the poor’ actually means. It really isn’t selling all you own and renting a shack in the slums of Adi-Haki; that really would be of little benefit to anyone. What these sisters are doing, and I am trying my very best to do, is something a little different. It is more about being a guest in their homes, spending time with them and their families to understand their problems, accepting their humble hospitality. It is about accepting invites from the boys to jump into a falling apart taxi to travel a few miles into the great-unknown suburbs of Mekele to watch a game of football, disappear into a small doorway to play billiardo or climb three flights of stairs to watch the Man Utd versus Chelsea game. It is about sharing their world and their experiences. Sometimes it’s a little scary, sometimes you wonder if what you are eating or drinking will do you any good or not, sometimes you get a bit dirty, but all the time you get a little closer. It’s going way beyond half way to meet these people and sharing with them all you can, but always remaining in a position where you can truly help them and be of benefit to them.

The DoC (13/8)

As I enjoy some rest time at St Vincent’s recovering from being ill, I thought I would use the sources I have to write a little about the Daughters of Charity of whom I am a guest of in Tigray:

The Daughters of Charity (DOC) is a non-profit making, religious congregation who work within the Catholic Church. They were originally founded in France in the 17th century by St. Vincent de Paul and St. Louise de Marillac as a Society of Apostolic Life. There purpose has always been to serve Jesus Christ in the person of the poor and most disadvantaged; as their missionary zeal states: “The Daughters of Charity are servants of Jesus Christ for every corporal and spiritual service of the poor.” It is important to note that the work of the Daughters is not confined to the Catholic population (in fact there are less than 300 of those in Mekele) but embraces the needs of all people, regardless of age, sex, ethnicity, religion and race. The founding principle of the congregation is to promote integral human development with a special focus on the poor of society.

To fulfil its purpose, the congregation provide many types of pastoral and social development services. These are primarily guided and inspired by gospel values and Catholic social teaching. Underpinning all of the Daughters work are the key values of respect for human dignity, justice, love, solidarity and communal benefit of the poor.

After more than 300 years work, the Daughters of Charity have expanded their roots to 94 counties in five continents. Their work in Ethiopia began in 1927 and they presently have 14 houses across the country building upon their original socio-pastoral work.

In Tigray, the sisters work under the Adigrat Diocesan Catholic Secretariat (Adigrat Diocese) and currently have 4 houses in the region; St. Vincent and St. Louise houses in Mekelle, St. Justin de Jacobis in Alitena and Immaculate Conception house in Maychew. The first of these two houses (in Mekele ad Alitena) were opened in 1973 with the intention of working closely with the famine-stricken people in the region.

Aside from the pastoral programmes, the congregation run various social development programmes which address the needs of local communities. There are currently 17 projects running in Tigray: four clinics, two women’s promotion centres, three kindergartens, one housing project for the most disadvantaged and poorest women, one street children’s project (supporting orphaned and vulnerable children), one youth programme, two hostels for girls, as well as work supporting elderly and disabled people, prison ministry and supporting medical treatment of women suffering from fistula. Through their hard work the congregation have attained a significant credibility and acceptance by the community and recognition by relevant government sectors. This is particularly impressive given the small minority that is the Catholic population.

Each project has its own administrator, Sr Fisseha co-ordinates the street children for example, but there is a central coordinating office to make all the social and development projects in Tigray more effective. Sr Medhin currently runs this and she is responsible for developing proposals and plans, making project agreements with donors, ensure implementation of projects, to oversee human resources and financial management of the projects and communicate with relevant government authorities.
More recently the Daughters of Charity have been involved with helping those who have suffered badly in the Ethiopian-Eritrea conflict. A direct effect of the war, only in very recent times, was the displacement of hundreds of thousands of civilians who were forced to flee and leave their possessions and lives behind. Most of the internally displaced civilians (mostly children, women, the elderly and persons with disability) were left to exist in very difficult living conditions; some in makeshift camps, the others in small caves in the hillside. The Daughters of Charity have contributed as much as they can to these people including the provision of emergency food ad medicine to those suffering the most.

The conflict has also had a knock-on effect to the other DOC projects in the border areas, particularly in Alitena (around 25km from the still disputed border). The situation is still unresolved and the future uncertain. The threat of war is ever present and there is still heavy military presence throughout these areas. The Daughters must prepare to work with two different scenarios: with or without a war.

The main beneficiaries of the Daughters work are the street children, poor and powerless women, unemployed youth, HIV/AIDS affected and infected families, patients, its staff, students and parents, the homeless, displaced, refugees, and other marginalized individuals and communities. Their needs are numerous and include food, clothing, education, financial support, land, job opportunity, acceptance, love and respect by other community members, secured home, preventive and curative health service, counseling, social, spiritual and psychological support, skill and vocational training, credit.

It is a real pleasure to spend just a short space of time with these wonderful sisters. They are never short of surprises and to see all the above actually acted upon and lived out by these women is nothing short of amazing. It requires total dedication, patience, hard work, compassion, love and faith on their part – and not one sister is even slightly lacking in any one of these qualities. They are an example to all, yet far too humble to take any kind of praise when Tommy and I try to offer it to them!

Examples to us all (12/8)

Yesterday whilst I was spending time with our CAFOD visitors (and being ill), Tommy had the opportunity to go watch St Vincent’s (the project football team) play a friendly. His write up entertained me and I thought deserved a mention and so, with his permission, I have taken an extract:

“The project football team had a match against the national team of 15/16 year olds from the entire Tigray area, which is the size of Scotland to put the size in perspective. The team left with great enthusiasm and laughter, all piled on the back of an open pick-up jeep. I must admit to feeling a little apprehensive, knowing the state of the roads and the frequent manoeuvres required to avoid dogs, cows and goats on the road. I wasn’t too sure what to expect when I saw the pitch, but seeing is believing as the saying goes. As a staunch Greenock Morton supporter I’ve heard the expression “get that donkey aff, he’s useless” Well today donkey takes on a more literal interpretation as before and during the match animals such as donkeys, cows, goats and sheep had to be ushered back to the other side of the touchline. Needless to say, the game just went on as though they were invisible. On another occasion a guy drove his horse and cart straight through the penalty box in front of Daniel our goalkeeper, followed by a guy taking a short cut with his motor bike through the centre of the pitch. The totally amazing thing about the entire afternoon, despite the obvious distractions of the animals and terrible pitch surface, was the amazing skills these young boys possess. The passing, tackling and shooting together with tremendous leg strength and flexibility was quite incredible. I could count on one hand the number of fouls committed and there was not a single stoppage of play for injury during the 70 minute match. They make our so-called professionals look like a bunch of saps the way they take horrific falls on dirt and bricks, yes bricks, then just get up and get on with the match. Our boys got a bit of a thrashing, but to be fair, we were up against a top notch team much older, fitter and skilful in all areas. Young girls were selling belus by the side of the touchline, so the skins are a big attraction for animals to eat all afternoon and stroll on to the park for a wee rest while they get an appetite for another feed. There was a lovely blonde coloured goat that looked just like the team mascot, snuggling into the players sitting by the side of the park waiting for their turn to play. After the match it was time for the boys to make their way back to the Project for a wash and some food. By this time it was 12:30 and getting very hot and sunny. It’s about a two-mile walk, but the way they were striding it out you would think they hadn’t played at all. It was quite an experience and although the scoreline was disappointing, the boys were not disgraced and they are looking forward to improving. Everything they do whether it be football, English lessons, future job prospects is all about looking forward and not back to what they have experienced. We could learn a lot from their positive outlook in life.”

In the last 24 hours Tommy and I have taken part in two celebrations for Sr Margaret. She announced on Friday that, after 24 years of service to Daughters of Charity in Mekele that it had been decided that she would be returning to the UK on Monday. On Saturday night she came to St Vincents for dinner accompanied by the other sisters from Adi-Haki and on Sunday we all travelled across town to their compound for a special lunch. Orignially from Ireland, the 70 year old sister told us how she had volunteered herself to come to Ethiopia and how in that space of time she has seen such great change – particually in the last 6 or 7 years. Humble to the end, she did not want a big fuss made of her departure and only reluctantly agreed to the two celebrations. However, in her time in Mekele she has given service to countless individuals in her role as a specially trained nurse in the field of eye operations. She has helped save many hundreds, if not thousands from blindness. She is a very lively and active lady and a clear inspiration to all of the sisters. The tributes given were touching and truly from the heart. She is a role model for all the sisters here in Mekele and from the speeches given by various priests and sisters she will be dearly missed. Sr Margaret thanked her good health for allowing her to serve others and claimed she had received far more than she gave. To see an example of such faith, service and commitment was humbling and again both Tommy and I felt privileged to have met such a wonderful and dedicated woman.

A CAFOD visit (11/8)

Bev, from CAFOD’s Addis office made the visit up to Mekele with Sophie and Helen from the Brixton offices. There were a variety of reasons for their visit, including youth development programs and gaining an overview of the Daughters varied and valuable work in Mekele. I’ve pointed them in the directions of my writings, and those of John that I feel give both a detailed and personal overview of their work. There is nothing like seeing it all first hand though and they managed to fit in a great deal in the 24hrs or so they were here before heading to the Diocese offices in Adigrat.

It was the first time that Tommy and I also had a forum for sharing our experiences over dinner on the Friday night. I certainly began to realise just how much my experiences here were changing me. As many of you will know, I often try to make light of situations to protect myself from the often difficult reality of situations. However, for the first time me and Tommy began to talk about just how much our first two weeks had meant to us.

I am still adamant that this whole experience is such a privilege and an honour. I am feeling more and more integrated into the culture of these street children spending many hours outside of the classroom with them. Every volunteer has a different connection with the children here, and the situation changes as such that it is impossible for anyone to replicate the work of others. Even between myself and Tommy there is a huge difference in style and approach; something I believe is healthy not only for us but also the children. They told us, Tommy is like their father, and Alex Ferguson; and I’m like their brother, or Wayne Rooney or Michael Ballack! I know we both feel part of the Abba Gebremichael family and the way they speak with such fondness of previous volunteers I know that our legacy here will remain for years to come. That is a pretty powerful thought and one I am only beginning to gets to grips with.

On Friday afternoon, we had our usual collective escorting us home. After carrying our bags all week, and always being a huge fan of post-school Friday afternoons I suggested we headed to Milkana for juices all round. You could tell the boys were really excited about just visiting a café to hang out with us. Perhaps the 22Birr we spent on them could have been put to better use, whilst on the other hand, seeing these five boys sitting in a trendy café being able to order whatever they liked brings such pleasure to their lives. Even in a very poor country, there are still very clear cultural and financial divides. Our boys are pretty much the bottom of the pile, but for just a short while we have the power to transport them to the other world. A world that I hope that with hard work on their part, and the continued commitment of the Daughters as well as people like myself these children will one day get to experience on their own merit.

As we were walking back to St Vincent’s’ Gary said to me, “My English has improved so much in the last two weeks, even Daniel says so. If I pass 9th Grade, I’ll always remember you for the rest of my life. Actually I’ll probably remember you anyway.” He then made me promise to return so that he could prove to me that he could pass 9th grade. I couldn’t promise, but I hope and pray that one day I do get to see these children succeed and fulfil all their goals. They owe me a Mirinda or two for a start!

Over dinner whilst sharing all our stories with Bev, Sophie and Helen I was reminded of a story I have not included so far. One that fits nicely here and I think really sums everything up about this place I still can’t believe I have been lucky enough to visit.

Our first mass at Don Bosco school was interesting for a variety of reasons, but not a particularly spiritually enriching one for me. I had real issues with the priest decided the message of the readings was that ‘God needs someone to suffer and you are those people’. It is a terrible acceptance of a situation and one I don’t feel is particularly neither helpful nor inspiring to the small group of Catholics in Mekele. However, whilst making conversation at the end of mass, Tommy received a far more poignant and relevant message that could be preached the world round. One of the congregation, asked him if he was enjoying Ethiopia, and Tommy replied that he had found the people very friendly and welcoming. The man replied to him, “Ah that is because in the west people have lots of things and are greedy and just want more and more and more. Here, the people have nothing, so caring for other people means more than looking out for yourself.”

I still can’t believe we still have over two weeks left here. I can’t imagine how many more little moments will hit us so hard.

---------------------------------
A stomach upset from the vegetable soup on Friday night has equally hit me hard. It’s my first illness of the trip and luckily has come at the weekend. I am also fortunate to have the wonderful nurses Sr Desta and Sr Fana who have been truly amazing. I think they know what being ill in bed and generally feeling rubbish can do for your morale and Sr Desta went and picked me some flowers to cheer me up. As well as the big massive things that affect you when being involved in such work over here, it’s also the little things that make a real difference.

3000m to see a church (9/8)

After discussion, initiated by John, conducted via notes left at Enet, we arranged to go to see some of the Gheralta region rock-hewn churches with a lady called Linda. This meant a day off of school, something we felt a twinge of guilt about – but we were sent with the blessing of some of the boys who had visited the churches with previous volunteers. Their only request was that we showed them some photos!

After meeting with Linda and our driver at the Axum Hotel we left out of city on the Adigrat road that we left at Wurko (silent ‘W’) to travel around 25km on unmade roads towards to Gheralta cluster of churches. Linda did contemplate the bus, but having a driver, a guide – Bereket (who we picked up from Wurko tourism office) – and a 4x4 made the day a lot more relaxed and enjoyable.

In 1868, Napier’s British expedition passed through Wurko where they were shown an astonishing church carved into a rocky outcrop. For several decades, it was believed that this one was the only one of its kind in Tigray. The Italian occupation ‘discovered’ two more such churches, and a few more were ‘found’ after the war. In 1963 a list of rock-hewn churches in Ethiopia was published, listing just 9 for the Tigray region. In 1966, Dr Tewelde Medhin read a paper at a Conference of Ethiopian Studies claiming there were 123 rock churches in Tigray, three-quarters of which were still in active use. His audience was naturally astonished.

The history of these churches is even more fascinating. Bereket was a fountain of knowledge, as well as providing us with various literatures from the tourism office. He explained that if you ask any priest how old the church is, they will claim that is was built by Abraha and Atsbeha. These are the twin rulers of Axum who converted to Christianity in the middle of the 4th century.

Historians who have used different techniques and tried to match architecture style claim the churches are more likely to date from the 14th and 15th centuries. However, others claim that they may well have been carved out of the rock prior to the arrival of Christianity and later converted into churches. The general consensus is that Tigray’s churches predate those at Lalibela and consensus seems to date them between the 6th and 10th century.

Most of the churches in Tigray have been carved into cliff face or into an outcrop, unlike those in Lalibela, which were dug down. It is believed that many of the churches were carved into existing cracks and then expanded into churches.

It is impossible to feel a real sense of wonder when entering the churches; there is a high standard of craftsmanship (impossible to comprehend given their dating) and a feeling of real sanctity given the number of years in which these churches have seen uninterrupted use. They are decorated with paintings and etchings whilst possibly the most remarkable fact is that they were unknown outside their parish until around 30 years ago!

We chose the Gheralta cluster to visit as there are more than 30 churches in the region and it is seen as the most important group of them in Tigray. The Tigray Tourist Board are working hard to promote tourism in the area, a much needed income to the people, and in years to come I may be able to say that I visited Gheralta before it became a major tourist attraction. The infrastructure is beginning to be put in place with the ‘Gheralta Lodge’ being built by an Italian gentleman that is attracting a reasonable number of Italian tourists to the area.

Our first stop off was ‘Debre Maryan Korkor’, a walk not a climb we were told. It took an hour and a half of walking, scrambling, ledges with sheer drops and a few short easy climbs. Tommy, Linda or I were quite prepared for it – and the altitude was certainly felt! We eventually got to 3000m but even in the lower parts I could feel the lack of oxygen in the air. However, it was all worth it. The views over the Arizona-like terrain were simply breathtaking. The church was an equally impressive feat of engineering: 12 large pillars and 7 arches spanning the church that can apparently hold ‘a few hundred’. Monks live in caves at the top of this mountain/hill and survive on what the locals bring up. Six young children, who were experts in helping us both up and down the tricky parts, accompanied us; they also brought a few litres of beer up to the monks! The tourism industry could well give them some kind of future beyond agriculture. The smaller church of ‘Aba Daniel Korkor’ could be found a little further on at the top and was apparently inhibited by a famous 17th century monk, Aba Daniel.

We were exhausted by the time we got back down to the bottom, and a few hairy moments aside, it was a fantastic experience. Not only the church, but the views too. Tommy and I both filled up our cameras with photos just trying to capture a little of what we were experiencing. It was refreshing to get out of the city and see the countryside and see more of what Ethiopia has to share with future travellers.

Our next stop off was in Dugem. A small village where we had a drink in the small café (I’m sure it was just an extension to someone’s front room) before being shown round the school. Linda actually has been working for the Education Board in Tigray and was explaining to us how there has been a drive for an increase in rural education and Dugem School was a fine example of this; money had clearly been invested in it as part of the millennium Project. Yet again, we were simply taken aback by the sheet friendliness and welcoming nature of the Ethiopian people. I hope that they never lose that aspect of their culture if tourism does take off around here.

Unfortunately the church of ‘Selasie Dugem’ was flooded and we could not view it. Bereket explained that the government had been informed of its flooding problem and there are various different boards that look after heritage sites but so far no action had been taken. I guess it has been flooding for many hundreds of years and it is not a priority at the moment.

Our last stop off was at ‘Abraha Atsbeha’ where the TTB are having a battle with Orthodox Bishop over entrance fees. Instead of the Tigray-wide standard entrance of 20Birr (£1.20), here it was 50Birr (£2.50). This is still not a huge sum of money, but as Linda pointed out it is over double what the other churches charge! However, it is regarded by many as the finest of the Tigray churches. It is also believed to have housed the bodies of the two aforementioned kings after which it is named, Abraha and Atsbeha, dating it to around the 4th century. This is one of the few churches that have been long known outside its parish.

It is a large church and lies behind a later addition, an Italian-style portico. The murals are also stunning, although the whole interior has suffered some fire damage. It still contains many treasures including a prayer cross (carried by all Ethiopian Orthodox priests) that is said to have belonged to Aba Salama, the first Bishop of Ethiopia.

We were all exhausted on the journey home, cheered by the driver buying us our first color (roasted barley). He then proceeded to tell me, the front passenger, a selection of hilarious stories very tediously connected. My favourites concerned the Chinese workmen who were building the road, found some hyena road-kill and took it home and ate it. Consequently, the Ethiopian labourers refused to work with them anymore – there are only certain meats they can eat in a link to the Church’s Semitic traditions. This went on to a conversation about camels; he told me he could get me one for just 4000Birr (£200), which was a good price in today’s market. Apparently Ethiopian people used to refuse to use camels, and said they were only used by the Afar people (who live in the Dankil Depression) and other Muslims. However, only recently they have seen how good and useful they can be and so want to use them more. The trouble with this is, the Sudanese people like to eat them and this is creating a shortage of camels and so the price is going up! I was in tears of laughter at his stories and they way he told them; he would have made an excellent London cabby – had he not already got two jobs as a driver and Italian tour guide for the Gheralta lodge, another secret his fluent Italian he shared with me. Tommy and Linda were sat in the back not understanding a work he was saying due to the road noise and were confused as to why I was laughing so much.

John’s friend Rory also arrived and they are both going travelling around Tigray, Gonder and Wolo over the next week. To celebrate, we take Aluma (the Daughters’ accountant) out for diner although I think all me and Tommy really wanted to do was go to bed after our ‘climbing’ experience…

A New Future (8/8)

As I have said many times, whilst in Abba Gebremichael we get to see the children in the most safe, secure, happy, loving environment most of them will ever experience. It troubles me as I know that this is so far from the whole story and I am cheating myself a little.

For this reason, Sr Fisseha is organising some home visits to see the children in their home environment with whatever family they have. It is often difficult to pin-down relatives – sometimes a single mother, perhaps a grandparents – for these meetings as the poor here do not sit at home all day living on government handouts. They are out doing whatever they can to collect a few cents. It is still unclear as to when these visits will happen, but hopefully within the next week. It is something that I am both looking forward to and equally approaching with caution. I am glad we are now into our third week out here, as I am very sure had I not experienced what I have dome over the last two weeks or so I would be totally unprepared for what I will see, hear, smell and experience.

Over dinner, Sr Fisseha and myself spoke at length about these visits and what they mean for the families. The teaching is such a small part of life in the project and I am now realising the education I can give to the children is a bonus. For some, they will embrace the additional English lessons and it will help them prepare well (especially for 9th grade). For others, a shower, their clothes washed and a bit of food is more than enough. As Gebreyesus told me the other day, the sisters do much work reuniting families and giving counselling. This is where the home visits play a major part. As with nay kind of work with children, it is important you know the full story and the complete picture. If you do, it makes understanding the complex needs of each individual child far easier.

However, Sr Fisseha told us of the difficulties she faced for a long time. Firstly, she had to disguise herself. The sisters are seen as being “loaded” by the local community as it is, having great difficulty in doing fundraising within Mekele and not needing any help as they always have ‘faranji’ staying with them – they sometimes even try to charge them faranji prices in the shops! As a consequence if they openly went to visit families, people got the wrong idea and thought the sisters were giving them a load of money! This then lead to the very small local government handouts (a kilo of sugar here, a half-kilo of tef there) being stopped. As soon as the sisters realised the extent of the problem they arranged a meeting with the police and local government to explain that they work they were doing was purely educational and they were not giving out handouts of money or food to these people. This rectified the problem of the handouts, but not the public perception. I can imagine if you are living in the slum area, in very poor housing and see you neighbour getting visits from a well dressed sister and two faranji (who everyone knows are very rich) you will probably come to the conclusion they are getting something you are not. The capacity of the sisters has its limits and there are only so many children that can be helped by the project. For the time being…

---------------------------------------

This afternoon we went to see the building site that is soon to become the new Abba Gebremichael project. I find it increasingly hard to call it a school, as the diversity and range of activities and services offered is way and beyond any school. This will become far more effective and efficient in just a few months when the new site is handed over to Sr Fisseha and the project staff.

It is in Adi-Haki, one of the poorest Kebelle (areas) in Mekele and very close to where the Sr. Meaza’s general clinic is found. It will be closer for some children, a little further for others, but once you see the place the distance fails to be significant.

It was begun in January 2007 and the building work is already completely paid for. The main building houses a large hall; ideal of getting all the children together – particularly useful at this time of year! It will also serve as a performance venue for the very talented project music and drama groups; thus generating revenue for the project. The hall will also have modern toilet facilities attached, one of several blocks in the new project. Tommy and I were speechless. It is quite simple a thousand times better than the current rented site; it is difficult to comprehend how it is even the same project.

In the second block, which is also nearly completed, there will be five classrooms, a craft room, modern kitchen, eating area and toilets and showers. There is then a further block which is still at a slightly less advanced stage which will house offices for all the project staff including rooms where counselling can take place. Perhaps the most important feature is the bedrooms. Five rooms which will be able to house around thirty-five street children who have no other place to call home.

It is truly amazing and it is no wonder Sr Fisseha, Tedros Adhanum and all the other staff are so excited. They will all be able to do their job so much better. Already the new project is a bright and vibrant place (to match the students!) and the children will be able to eat, relax, wash, clean, study, live in far superior surroundings. As an added bonus, where the project currently caters for around 150 street children, this number will be doubled.

Seeing this, I hope and pray even further one day I will return to see the children in their new environment. The next challenge is to fill the school, not with eager, happy children – but with equipment. Apparently is commonplace to find such buildings, funded in basic structure, but not in all the other necessary equipment. It would be an absolute tragedy if into these brand new, bright, clean classrooms were simply brought the rickety benches and falling apart blackboards. I’d have difficulty in sleeping if I didn’t even try to do something to help.

Billiardo, ‘Very good people’ and a long way from home… (7/8)

Today, as the boys continue their mission to turn us into proper habasha, we were taken to experience billiardo. This is a popular game throughout Ethiopia apparently, and (alongside spaghetti bolognaise) is a lasting reminder of the short-lived Italian occupation from 1936 to 1941. The Tigray region was the first part of Ethiopia to fall to Mussolini’s Italian forces as Haile Selasie’s rule was challenged for the first time. The Tigrean nobility were charmed by the Italian forces who already ruled the historically and culturally close Eritrea. Some of them even took the Italian side in the subsequent wars with Ethiopia – forget the military oath of ‘Ethiopia First’! By the beginning of November 1935, Mekele was one of the occupied towns followed by the last decisive victory at Maychew. It was at this point that emperor Haile Selasie went into exile and mass violence erupted on the streets.

Alongside spaghetti bolognaise and billiardo, there are other testaments to the Italian occupation including various architecture. Perhaps the more important building was within the transport infrastructure where they built many roads (particularly in the north) over difficult terrain. However, this can be set against their largely successful aim of destroying indigenous business; replacing it with parastatal organisations. The legacy of this continues today, whilst the agriculture industry took many years to recover.

Ultimately the high level of resistance to regime from within Ethiopia lead to a collapse of the ‘Italian East Africa’ (Ethiopia, Eritrea and Italian Somaliland) and when the Allied liberation campaign arrived in January 1941, the British army had a very easy victory over the Italians.

Interestingly, the children don’t like pizza. On our walk back to St Vincent’s, where we are getting a bigger and bigger escort as each day passes, the beneficiaries pointed out Yordano’s where we have been on several occasions – including kidnapping all the sisters on Monday night for Sr Medhino’s birthday where we had pizza with no cheese, as they had run out. This was reminiscent of more random food/drink events such as John’s warm orange juice at the Axum Hotel, “it is because it is freeesh” and the adding of water to coke (I have only been ‘done’ once so far) and adding salt instead of sugar to coffee. Anyway, when a group of no doubt very well intentioned volunteers took the children to Yordano’s for pizza, they were all apparently sick. I guess if an Ethiopian came to England and took a group of teenagers out for injera they would not be too impressed!

Back to billiardo, a game for people with time on their hands, and I will attempt to give a brief overview of the rules. This was after an hour of watching and asking questions to Desta (a chap who had very good English), the ‘shark’ and naturally the boys. Apparently, gambling is illegal in Ethiopia, and so I am not allowed to mention the fact that the game is often played for money as well as the cost of the table (5Birr 40cents per hour). Billardo tables are often found in rooms not much bigger than the tables themselves. It looked like a smallish snooker table, but had the middle two pockets filled and there was not a cue in sight. A few sticks for knocking balls back to the contestants but nothing more. Each player (2 or 3 apparently!?)has 4 balls each, white or red. The aim is get as many points as possible, making a target (which could be very high) and you can d this in various ways. You gain 1 to 4 points if you win each round depending on how many of the winners balls are closest to the blue ball. Applause is generally given for a four pointer. Additionally there is a diamond of 4 white and one red mini-skittles in the centre of the table. If you knock down the skittles with the blue ball you get two points for each white skittle and one point for each red. There are various rules on whether or not it has to hit the back cushion depending on where the blue is positioned (before or after the half way line). Each time, it is the player who is not closest to the blue who takes their turn – sometimes going slowly to sneak in closer to the blue, other times going in hard to knock away the opposition. On top of this, it is also possible to loose points. You do this if you pocket one of your balls (-2), but gain two if you pot one of your oppositions. As well, you lose the respective points (2 or 4) if knock over the skittles with your red and white balls.

I think that is a brief overview of billiardo, but I may be wrong. Games can go on for hours, if not days. Daniel started a game at 12 (6pm) and played until 7 (1am), however it was not finished so had to restart at 2 (8am) and was still there at lunchtime!

While we were in the billiardo ‘hall’, the boys showed me a box of blankets under the table. I asked who they belonged to, and they told me it was where Gebrematian sleeps. He is the unpaid guard of the billiardo. He gets a roof over his head, and they get a security guard. I guess it is a good arrangement for both parties. Relatively good that is, better than being out on the streets completely, but still a long long way from ideal for a teenager wanting to succeed in school and fulfil his potential in life.

--------------------------------------

I am also getting to know the students a lot better and as well as being welcomed into their social lives, I am finding out more about the world from which they come and exist in. It’s very alien still, and I will obviously never be able to fully comprehend exactly what it must be like to be a ‘street child’. It does help to go beyond the smile that greets you at Abba Gebremichael, because the difficulties they face are left at the project gates.

To put this into context, I got taught today about how the education system works in Ethiopia. The government schools run from 1st grade to 12th grade before transferring students who pass 12th grade on to university. You can only take one grade per year and if you fail you must repeat or leave the school. Up to 9th grade all classes are in Tigrinyian, except for English. From 9th grade onwards, everything is in English except for Tigrinyain lessons. Students are therefore kept in 8th grade if their standard of English is not good enough (Gary and Temescen are about to go into 9th grade are very worried about their English not being up to standard). Interestingly, you only get one shot at university. Most students are there for 4 years, but if you dropout or fail part of your course you cannot repeat unless you pay to go to a private college. The Catholic School is the best one in Mekele, but it is a private school. It costs around 150Birr per month (£8.30) and even though there are very few Catholics in the town most students would love to go there.

Over lunch, I was told the story of one of the students who I know well from the project. He’ll rename nameless in this story though. He is 20 years of age, but is just going into 6th grade. If he was a student in England he would have a whole network of support from social workers, education psychologists, behavioural support specialists and so on. Over here he doesn’t even have a home or his parents. He confessed to me that he has anger issues and as much as he can be the most charming, polite and helpful young man, it is clear that he is a boy with many problems. Sr. Fisseha has done much work with him and begged and pleaded with schools to let him return to his education. His behaviour in school was so out of control that he was repeatedly kicked out of every school he attended. His answer was always, “it’s because no-one ever loved me.”. His mother still lives in Mekele, but there is no contact whatsoever. He once said that his dream was to join the army, and the first thing he would do is go and shoot his mum.

I can’t ever imagine what must have gone on in his younger childhood, nor what drove him to such a point. However, with the help and encouragement of the project, he is a lot closer to the path of success. His conversational English is excellent and he shows a great maturity at times. He acknowledges the reasons why he is in classes with students many years younger than him and I genuinely believe him when he says he wants success. Sr Fisseha is always there to remind him that he is loved, perhaps not by his mother but certainly by all those involved in Abba Grebremichael. He has one teacher that has been very good to him in his current school and we all hope that his success continues.

Another student who has a great deal to thank the project for is the hardworking and competent Gebreyesus. He spent a good while living on the streets after being separated from his family. Around 18 months ago, he began attending the project and the sisters took him under their wing. Since then, he has been reunited with his family and both he and they have been provided with counselling from the project. He is very keen to succeed in English and I often give him some extra help with more complex topics. It’s touching that when you ask him what he wants to achieve in life that he replies that his dream to be a doctor doing lots of good work with the poor people. I’m sure I could write a hundred more of these stories of the holistic care that is provided for the children of the project. Gebreyesus very simply puts it that the sisters are “very good people”.

--------------------------------------

Last night was a stark reminder of actually how far away I am from everyone. I have received a handful of emails in my time here, a few texts, and one phone call from Naomi, which I consider not bad the first two weeks. However last night, everything went wrong! First of all the internet went down at Enet. Jose and Robbi, two teenage boys with excellent English who go above and beyond all call of duty for us, simply told us that they had no idea if or when it would be back on. There were no makiatos today as we left, but they did pass on a note from Linda – a woman who we are travelling with to see some rock-hewn churches on Thursday. Secondly, we worked out that the landline was not working (John’s wife did not make her weekly call). I tried my Ethiopian mobile to call Linda, no joy. I tried to text from my English mobile, no luck at all. Mekele all of a sudden felt like a million miles from home and I retired to bed to write a few emails (in Word to send at a later date). It’s amazing how a short turn of events can hit you pretty hard when you don’t even think you’re that homesick.

The UN, Guns and the Army (6/8)

I suddenly realised that I had written little about some of the things that shock you a little in Mekele at first, but you become very used to in a short space of time. In fact, I may even miss when I go home!

The first of these is the UN. There are no blue helmeted peace keeping troops marching through the streets accompanied by white tanks, but there is still a notable presence here. Their white 4x4s with UN in big black letters plastered down the side fly around non-stop whilst there are UNICEF signs and posters everywhere, in particular reminding people of the rights of the child and the promotion of girls’ education. There is a UN World Food Programme office near the Axum Hotel and there are also offices for the UNMEE (United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea). I guess it is because my only exposure to the UN has been so far off before now. The only time you seen the UN in the UK is when you put on the news and the association is always with difficult situations.

Guns are the second thing which I have become increasingly accustomed to. Soldiers from the Ethiopian army wander around town with a rifle casually slung over their shoulder, and many of the police also carry weapons. The difference to say France, where the Gendarmes carry weapons, is that there feels a great flippancy about it. This is also not the exclusive use of guns, and when we went to Yordano’s the other night the car park guard had a rifle (and the sisters flew out of the car park this evening before we had handed over our 1Birr!). The Axum Hotel usually has armed guard as it is used by UN delegates too, and the guards at the bank too. In a way I’m glad it is something that took some getting used to, but equally it worries me just how quick you do acclimatise and see it as the norm.

On the mention of the army, it is worth noting that there is still a reasonable presence in Mekele. On the street where we walk to school, there is always at least two army trucks (and I have seen five one day). They seem to take up a position in the tower block opposite the bank (a large branch of the Bank of Ethiopia), but can also be found wandering the streets too. I asked the boys about it and they said they are just used to it now and it used to be far heavier in the time after the Ethiopian-Eritrean war that did only finish 7 years ago. Alitena where we are taking a trip up to has only even more recently been given back to its residents and still to this day many are missing loved ones who are kept locked up over the border. There is a large museum and monument dedicated to the many Ethiopians who lost their lives in the conflict in Mekele and it is on our list of places to visit. I just can’t help thinking to myself that perhaps the war was the last thing that these people needed to deal with. Life here is hardly prolonged by situations as it is. The situation is still far from resolved and it is anyone’s guess as to when the Eritrean and Ethiopian governments will decide finally on an agreed border. In the meantime, military presence, ID checks and general suspicion are here to stay.

Other things never cease to surprise me here, my favourite mobile phone network ETH-MTN for instance are not issuing any more SIM cards until after the Ethiopian Millennium. This is the only mobile provided in the country so, alongside the network always being busy, if you lose your phone or want to become a new customer you must wait until after September 11th. The Ethiopian Calendar (EC) is completely different to our traditional Gregorian Calendar. There are 12 months of 30 days and 13th month of five or six days like the Coptic dating system.

--------------------------------------
A request: For some reason my blog is unavailable to view in Ethiopia. I’ve heard suggestion that blogs are actually banned in Ethiopia which maybe an explanation. There are a good few people who would love to read it including the some of the sisters, many of the people we have met and people in the CAFOD Addis office. My internet is so slow here I don’t really have the ability to copy and paste it all and put it up elsewhere -nor post it in more than once place! It can be enough hassle as it is, and the only reason it pops up in Facebook is because I set that up before I left! If anyone fancies helping me out there’d be a lot of gratitude from myself in my current position and a few beers on my return!

Winners and Losers (5/8)

Emotionally, this has been my toughest day yet. It was the first time I had a tear in my eye and the first time I was unable to sleep due to what I had seen, heard and experienced during they day. It wasn’t a day filled with sadness or desperation but there were a series of events, which in the end got the better of my usually resolute self.

Firstly, we began the day very early with mass at St Teresa’s chapel that is found in the compound of the Missionaries of Charity. These are the sisters who work in the order founded and inspired by Mother Teresa of Calcutta, one of the true modern disciples and example of true Christian living. I remember a quote of hers when she was asked how she was going to look after all the sick and dying of the world, and her response was simply that she would work on, one by one. This is inspirational in the work we are currently involved with. We will not solve every problem of every street child in Mekele before we go home, and even if we did there would be another town, and other region, or another country. However, maybe (and I hope and pray that I do) I will make a difference to perhaps a handful of the children. Maybe I will make their life a bit better for the future, give them some kind of help that they will never forget.

Mass had begun early and we sneaked it as best we could after leaving out shoes outside. There was just one bench at the back and everyone else was on the floor. There was actually space on the bench and the three white men faranji were ushered to these seats.

This is perhaps a good point to talk about the huge guilt I currently feel and me Tommy and John speak of frequently. Some aspects of my writing may seem we are living the life of luxury out here in Mekele. The honest answer is that we are. We are holed up in a very comfortable, secure compound with caring sisters who attempt to solve our every problem and request as quickly as possible. However, I increasingly find that this exaggerates the situations we see and encounter. Everyone we meet treats us differently; they know we are rich westerners. We essentially go without nothing and we have all we need and a great deal beside. This is very true at home, and equally out here too.

Today I felt really bad about worrying that my expensive digital camera was broken. You can’t even buy digital cameras in Mekele. Even if you could, what percentage of the population could afford one? And if they could afford one, would they see it as a necessity? I told myself to get a grip and Sunday helped me do that. Essentially if I don’t take another photo or my camera is dead for good it’s not really the end of the world is it? I know exactly where my next meal is coming from, I know the bed I will be sleeping in tonight and could list a number of people who really love and care for me.

Due to our late arrival in mass, we didn’t really notice the congregation. However as the service went on I found myself looking at each person in the small chapel in turn. Every one of them looked happy enough to be in mass, joining in enthusiastically with the hymns (I could in for “Hosanna, Hosanna!”). However as I turned from person to person, I could see their difficulties, their pains. There were those with crutches, children in wheel chairs, all kinds of disabilities, a selection of amputations and any other number of hardships placed upon these people.

After mass we stayed and shook hands and chatted and made friends with many people from what can only be described as a hospital. The Missionaries of Charity devote their lives to helping the poorest and sickest people in society, and in Mekele that is no mean feat. Nearly every single person we see has either a physical or mental disability or is suffering from HIV/AIDS. Thank God (and I mean that, not just as a throw away comment) God for these sisters. There is no one else to care for these people. I’m very sure most of these people would otherwise be another poor beggar lying in the street hoping for a little compassion from passers by. That, or dead already.

It was a quiet car journey home. Situations like that really do make you think and show you the true side of life for the poor and sick in Ethiopia.

A little later, John offered to take Tommy and myself for a walk up to the university. None of us had really spoken about what we had encountered at mass, and it actually took until Monday evening for us to do that. It hit us all really hard and even then we didn’t really know what to say.

John pointed out to us the slum areas of Adi-Haki where most our children live. They have quickly become ‘our’ children. Sr Fisseha always calls them that and I can now understand why. They are like surrogate children that you want to care for, to love, to help succeed. Tommy and I are going on some home visits over the next week or so, and I think John wanted to prepare us for those a little. In Abba Gebremichael, each day we see the children in a safe secure environment where every staff member cares them for. They are fed, washed, clothed, educated – their needs met. They walk out of those gates and their world changes.

It was a hot day and our slog up the hill was lessened by a few belus at the top. We had walked up the main road (which leads to the airport) and admired some good views over the city. Our return was via the old road accompanied by locals (habashas) and donkeys’s pulling or bring down incredible loads. There were some well-constructed house, but there were other buildings that looked like out-house or even chicken sheds. That’s what they would be considered as in England, but out here, someone calls it home. Probably a family of four or five do.

Another thing struck me on the walk down. My feet were killing me. I had left my walking shoes at St Vincent’s in a moment of madness. I was wearing my very thin-soled trainers and these were just not suitable for the rocks and generally uneven road surface. I had a choice, and I had enough money in my wallet to go and buy another pair if I needed to. I’ll remember to look at the shoes of the children in the project tomorrow – and some of them walk for 40 minutes each day to get to Abba Gebremichael.

Gary and Danny picked us up to go and see the Community Shield match between Chelsea and Man United. This has been a topic of conversation for the whole first two weeks in Mekele and we knew how much it meant to the boys. They took us to the Third Floor Sports Café. I insisted on paying the entrance fee. This was a mini-battle with Danny, I knew the boys had been working hard to take us out to show us the football and they are happy to pay their own way. 3Birr (15p) means a whole lot more to them than to us though and I eventually got my way!

We got to the top of the stairs and were ushered through a half door. This was an experience like no other, it was still well over an hour to kick off, but here at the top of an office block-cum-hotel was nothing more than a shed tacked on to the roof full with plastic garden chairs. There was a large white sheet pinned to the wall, a few football flags and posters hung up and already around 300-odd excited Africans. The temperature was already rising and we took our seats three rows from the back. I admit the screen was a good size, and we ordered a few drinks (the boys were a little taken back as they usually pay entrance only).

Tommy was the one asking the obvious questions such as, “Is there just that one door in and out?” the answer being ‘yes’. I was noting the fact that is was just a half door, and that there was probably near on 400 people, three floors up. Ethiopian health and safety executives would have had a field day, but I’m not sure they exist and there was certainly no kicking out any of these spectators!

The match was entertaining and we became Man Utd fans for the day. Tommy is Alex Ferguson and I am Wayne Rooney according to the boys. In fact, that is the only time I have heard any of the boys use foul language, when doing a Rooney impression. He should remember the effect he is having a few thousand miles away! 3-0 to Man United on penalties so we need to celebrate.

Remembering last Sunday, we insisted on taking the boys out to dinner. They don’t eat on a Sunday normally and Tommy and me have decided we will act on instinct rather than rules.

The boys agreed, to our delight, and we headed off for the traditional Ethiopian restaurant near St Vincent’s. Here we experienced a strange moment of anti-faranji and anti-street boy as we could not sit on a nice table at the back with a tablecloth and wineglasses already set up but were moved to the crowded ‘floor’ of the restaurant sat on low stalls. The atmosphere was good with live music and dancers and the boys pointed out the keyboard player actually used to be part of the project.

It is at this point, that I must highlight the attitude of the boys. Not for one second did they take anything for granted. They showed an immensely mature and appreciative attitude, which many teenagers from well-brought up families in England would struggle to match. They accepted our gesture in exactly the way it was meant, but not once did they ever come close to overstepping the mark. They chose a simple dish from the menu to share; I had a word with the waiter to make sure he put plenty of meat in it, and politely refused my offer of a second drink.

I struggled to finish my meal when it suddenly dawned on me that in a short space of time the boys may not be dancing and smiling and eating away. They’d be trying to find somewhere to bed down for the night, looking at the lightening in the distance wondering if they’d get wet. At least they had a good feed inside them, and we had all had a good day together.

They escorted us back to St Vincent’s; they are always very concerned about us getting our pockets picked and they literally do act as our guards. It is appreciated on our part, and we forget how good ‘our’ street children are.

Just as we get to the gates, Danny said to me, “We are very sorry that you lose all your money on us.” I almost stopped dead in my tracks. I wasn’t sure, at first, exactly what he was trying to say to us. “You lose all your money on us, we are very sorry.”

I suddenly realised that he was trying to say a real heartfelt thank you for the afternoon. I told him, that it was a real pleasure to take them out and that I had enjoyed myself immeasurably (which was the truth). I also told him that we had not lost a cent (which was again the truth). I asked if they had had a good time, big grins and yeses all round. That was all that counted, as I told them. There was big hugs goodbye at the gates, and I wondered to myself exactly where they were going to go. The 122Birr (£6.70) I had spent on dinner was the best £7 I had spent in a good long time.

The DREAM of the war against HIV – and an eventful Saturday (4/8)

I have spent the last few days reading and trying to make sense of a proposal that John has been working on. He is here as a Vincentian Lay Missionaries (VLM), not a SVP volunteer as I was first lead to believe, and on a 3 month secondment from his company, Roche. I’m sure John has downplayed his role in all this, but potentially his stay and its relating work is something which could literally be life changing for not just the people of Mekele, but for the whole of Ethiopia.

Firstly, to put things into perspective, and using some of John’s statistics, HIV/AIDS is still a massive problem in sub-Saharan Africa. Sr Meaza, who John has been working with at the Adi-Haki clinic, feels that the whole world-focus on the AIDS epidemic appears to have "gone off the boil" a little in recent times with whole administrations (local, regional, national and global) not giving the due time, attention and funding to tackling what is still an escalating problem in Ethiopia and in many other sub-Saharan African countries.

There is no accurate data on the actual size of the problem, although John has gained some statistics from an Ethiopian Bureau of Health report, dated 2005. Regional estimates indicated that around 4.7% of the population of Tigray were infected with the virus. However, this is an overall figure for the region. It is around 2.9% of the population in rural areas where around 83% of the population live, jumping up to around 12.3% of the population in towns like Mekele. With a population of 218,000 people, the number infected or affected by HIV/AIDS in Mekele is huge.

This knock-on effect of HIV/AIDS should not be underestimated; in Tigray alone, AIDS turned 70,000 children into orphans during 2005. It is something I am yet to discuss with students at Abba Gebremichael, perhaps through my own fear, but something I already know has touched many of their lives. The very reason a number of them are classed as ‘street children’ is because they are AIDS orphans. The percentage of students at the school themselves suffering from HIV/AIDS is likely to be even higher than the city estimate of 12.3%. This is due to their lifestyle and ‘home’ environment, Sr Fisseha told us just the other day that a number of the mothers of students work as prostitutes; a guaranteed earner, but a very dangerous profession – especially in this climate.

On to the more positive, and namely the work John has spent the last few weeks on. He has been in Alitena for the last 3 weeks or so, where the infection rate is rapidly increasing, and working with the sisters in their clinic there. Here he has been researching and beginning to write a proposal on the DREAM project using material from a course that Sr Meaza attended in Maputo, Mozambique last January/February.

So, from my reading and conversation with John I will give a very brief overview of what I understand DREAM to be. John is continuing his work and this can be read on his own blog at www.clareoutdoorclub.net. I will keep this as brief as possible, but I it is perhaps something that some will want to read about further.

DREAM is a programme designed to fight AIDS in Africa. It takes a global approach aiming to control, prevent and treat HIV infection. It was devised by the Community of Sant'Egidio who are based in Rome (and have the Pope as patron) but have been working for many years in Mozambique where the programme was first introduced. As it is designed specifically with Africa in mind, it works with limited resources systems. It certainly gives hope that AIDS can be fought effectively in Africa as it is in Europe. It has already spread from Mozambique to Malawi and Tanzania and there are now DREAM centres in Guinea Conakry, Guinea Bissau, Ivory Coast, Central Africa, Togo, Angola, South Africa, Nigeria and the Republic of Congo.

The content of the DREAM programme is mainly formed from universally consolidated knowledge and understanding about the spread and control of HIV and AIDS. However DREAM is distinctive in its model for a number of reasons; firstly it emphasises the centrality of the person-patient making sure that they follow their own individual programme. It also makes use of modern diagnostic-therapeutic treament whilst perhaps most importantly identifies the characteristics of the African HIV patient and takes into account the different environments in which the programme is to be carried out.

HIV and AIDS is no longer a purely health issue, it is much more; it is now a development issue. I have spoken before about how the Ethiopian people dream of a more industrialised country, with economic growth and investment from overseas. That is in danger of being jeopardised by AIDS. In the documents provided by John on the DREAM project, it offers inspiring words:

“And this may be how, in the answer to the challenge of a worldwide disease, we can sense something new between the north and south of the world. In fact there is still much to do in the field of health, as there is for development, but today we are convinced that DREAM has opened up a new path, that of a true partnership between Africa and the West, with no complexes or paternalism. The Community of Sant'Egidio believes that sometimes it is possible to win impossible challenges. And sometimes it happens. Their dream is not only to win against AIDS but they also dream of a new alliance, a new relationship between Africa and Europe, between Africa and the West.”

There is a lot that I find inspirational and poignant in the above paragraph, and to be part of that African world at this very moment does make you think that these people deserve more. They deserve a partnership without condition; a partnership based on common good and survival not complicated politics. I feel this links with all our other campaigns to alleviate debt and promote fair trade. Why can Africa not be on an even footing with Europe or the US? Why when the treatment is there can it not be used?

The answer is of course money. This is the next step for John and the Daughters of Charity. He is currently working very hard producing a detailed report going into far more detail about the DREAM project and its exact intricacies (I suggest you google-it for more information about it!). It is something he is taking back to Roche when he returns in September but has also drawn up a plan on the possibility of introducing DREAM to Ethiopia. It’s ambitious, but he is determined, as are the sisters. The battle with HIV and AIDS is not one they are about to lie down and take. I wish him every success and hope to be kept informed on their progress.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of Saturday has been a little bit of a roller coaster ride; physically, emotionally and spiritually. Sort of.

I overslept, again, and realised the knock-on effect of my need for sleep (or perhaps ability to get up) has on the whole of St Vincent’s. Firstly, there is a plate and cup set for each person on the dining room table. Mine is always the last left and Elsie and Aziz cannot clear up until I make at least some half-hearted appearance. I may not need food, but a cup of Addis tea usually hits the spot. I have tried to explain to them that they should tidy away and I can find something if need be. However, my Tigrinyian is still not good enough. Secondly, the shower is not cleaned until after I use it. I know someone has to be last each day but perhaps next week I will make a big effort so that it is not me last for everything, every day. Unfortunately Tommy and John are both early risers and the sisters go to mass at 6am so I’m not being too optimistic!

We headed down to the project and I was dearly hoping to see the promised camel train. These belong to the salt traders of the Danakil Desert (where the lowest point on the earth’s surface can be found – 116m below sea level). Alas, I either missed it or it didn’t come past today. It is apparently ‘the most camels you’ll ever see in once place’ and bearing in mind camels are not a native of Essex, I had little choice but to agree!

Saturday means another coffee ceremony and today we had the fortune of seeing the whole coffee making process. The girls began by heating (I presume a form of roasting) the coffee beans in a pan. These were then crushed by hand; I had a go, before they were ready for use. This ground coffee was then put in the kettle, which is in turn placed on the charcoal burner to boil. The ‘bits’ are stopped from coming out by some kind of rag wedged into the kettle spout. It is custom to have 3 cups of coffee with the first being the strongest and them getting weaker (no more coffee beans are added to the kettle). As well as the caffeine, you also get a buzz from the amazing amount of sugar put into each cup. Tedros reliably informed me today that I wouldn’t want it without sugar though. A bit like trying the spicy food, I may never know! Incense is put on the charcoal burner as the coffee is made and with the flowers placed around on the floor there is something distinctly Asian about the ceremony. Ethiopia prides itself as the home of coffee but I think its popularity is due to the Arabian traders around 1500 years ago. Either way, Ethiopia finds itself in a unique and enviable position of having the best of both African and Asian worlds, a mix that never ceases to intrigue.

We arranged to meet up for the football tomorrow. It is the Charity Shield, Chelsea versus Manchester United at Wembley. The boys have been excited and talking about ever since we arrived and we always vaguely said we would go along to watch with them. Today we finalised the plans. Daniel and Gary are going to pick us up from St Vincent’s at 10 o’clock (4pm European time) as kick off is at 11 (5pm Euro time, we are +2 hrs). Daniel said that he was going to spend all afternoon today and Sunday morning at the bus station so he could come. At first I was confused, but them remembered that one of the ways children can earn money is by carrying bags for people at the bus station. I asked him if it was an easy way to make money, he replied, “Not at all, there are lots of boys there, but, if God wills it then I will be blessed and carry some bags”.

At this point, I really wanted to say I would just pay for him to come out. I probably will when Sunday comes, but he wouldn’t want me to pity him in that way. Already I am beginning to understand the mentally of these children, particularly those like Daniel and Gary who are some of the few that actually do still live on the streets. They do want support, encouragement, friendship and love; they don’t want pity.

It costs 1Birr (5p) for a glass of milk and that means you can stay in the Guna Sports Bar to watch the football. At that price, I don’t mind getting the round in, twice even. These are the small ways in which we can treat the beneficiaries of Abba Gebremichael; remember Sunday is the day many of them don’t get a meal either.

During the morning’s entertainment that involved some kind of charades game, Goytom being a snake was a personal highlight for me, disaster struck. As I was zooming in to get a good shot of Gebreyesus covered in flour after another game, and my camera informed me it had a ‘zoom error’ and consequently refused to work. With my very limited knowledge of zoom lenses of digital cameras I can only presume at some point some dust or dirt must have got in and it decided to make itself known at this point. I was gutted.

I asked Tedros if he knew anyone that fixed digital cameras and, to my surprise, he assured me that he did. Not only full time project staff, social worker and student (I found this out later on in the day), but also a man about town and someone who knew, if anywhere, I could get my camera fixed.

We left the project, followed by around 6 or 7 beneficiaries who escorted us. Tedros met his good friend Ellis and he was to accompany on us on our mission. It was Saturday lunchtime by this point and I was holding out little hope. Nearly all Ethiopian’s work Monday to Saturday lunchtime, this is why when I had gone to the internet café last night it had been deadly quiet on the streets. However, when Saturday lunchtime comes, everyone is out to play!

I had my first adventure coming up…. Tedros said that we would jump in a taxi as we were heading right into town. Now, Tommy and I had been a little apprehensive about partaking in a taxi ride as all the cars looked like that had seen a fair few collisions in their time (which was from around 1960), or they were ancient looking Toyota people carrier things, again with mainly rippled sides, or these scary looking motorbike things with 3 seats and a hood attached to the back. Alternatively there were the horse and cart types. I knew what my preference would be at this time, and reverting to the use of animals seemed highly preferable. My future was not really in my hands though, and I did have a camera I desperately wanted to fix!

Up pulled a Toyota bus thing. Now, it seemed already a little busy (you don’t get exclusive use of all taxis) but the fare-collector/shotgun rider assured us there was room. I was given a seat, faranji privilege I guess, as I did a quick count up. There were 12 seats including the driver’s. We now had 16 passengers as well as the fare-collector! Tedros paid for the 3 of us (Tommy had decided against this particular excursion) which was just 1Birr for wherever you wanted to go. I’m not sure we were entirely in charge of our destiny as people clung to strangers for protection against the bumps in the road and swerves of the driver. My seat was pretty comfy though!

People got off at various points they could convince the driver to stop at and eventually we were somewhere near our destination. First of all, Tedros had to drop off an assignment at the distance learning college where he studies. This kind of event is always an experience, as entering into these offices, behind and above a shop front, you are going to a place where a white faranji would never usually go. There is scarce enough white people in Mekele anyway – I have seen 3 apart from John and Tommy so far, and they always say hello (faranji solidarity?) – and there is never any need for them to come to a local’s place like this. I was the cause of much excitement as I went through the offices. It will be odd to return to the UK and not be some kind of star attraction/freak show.

After this we were head for our destination, the “famous and excellent electrical repairers”. This turned out to be a shop housing an Aladdin’s cave of old VCRs, TVs, DVD players and various other electrical goods varying in age, condition and completion. In all honesty I didn’t have a great deal of hope. I met the owner and we were taken out to the back of the shop. Even more taken apart equipment, soldering irons, electronic components were on ‘display’. I no longer had my camera in my possession and I was getting a little nervous.

They had two suggestions to fix my camera: new batteries, a bargain at 4Birr (20p) or just keep switching it on and off in the hope it will fix itself. Neither of these worked but I was relieved that he admitted that he didn’t really know what was wrong and if he took it apart he wouldn’t know how to put it back together again! Honesty counts for a lot, especially when you are alone and long way from home. I didn’t have a working camera, but I hadn’t been fleeced for a lot of money to break it even more. (I’ll put a note here for Mum and Dad to dig out the receipt for the camera).

I then offered to take Tedros and Ellis for coffee, I’m getting used to the customs and etiquette here now, and they were delighted. We went to Yordannis Blue, which is the sister restaurant of where I had had pizza on Monday night. Just as we were about to go upstairs to the bar, Tedros suggested we had lunch. He had now made the invite and paid for the 3 of us to have a large traditional Ethiopia lunch, although I opted for the western sounding friend chicken, it was still very Ethiopian! I tried to offer to pay the 54Birr (£3) for our lunch, but Tedros had made the invite and he stuck to it. Ellis then suggested we go for coffee.

Nothing in Ethiopia happens in a hurry. I guess this is partly due to the fact there is such high unemployment that for many there is no need to be in a hurry. Partly its just due to their laid back attitude to life. At this point, I will mention a strange phrase that someone somewhere is responsible for teaching Ethiopians. They frequently respond to a statement with ‘of course’, when it is slightly odd to do so and no qualification for their response is given. To explain, I’ll give some examples…”I’ve noticed a lot of building going on in Mekele.”, “Of course.” “There are lots of stationary shops in Mekele.”, “Of course.” “It’s a pretty hot day today.” “Of course.” “Shall we go for coffee?”, “Of course.” I just don’t get it.

We headed to Starbucks for coffee. Not ‘that’ Starbucks mind. Obviously some entrepreneur in Mekele has visited the US (a chap from the electric store was from New York, all back for the millennium in September) and had a Starbucks there. He then came back and decided to rip off the name and logo. I bet they’d sue if they knew, but in the meantime it is a good joke for visitors. I would have taken a photo, if I could have. Apparently there is a fake McDonalds in Adigrat too.

In Starbucks we ere joined by a selection of Tedros’ friends including a guy who works at the eye-clinic in Adi-Haki who had with him a friend who was a famous song writer in Ethiopia. We had some attention from random people in the café which I presume was connected, but surreal really. The guy who was the famous song-writer loved my phone and kept showing me funny clips on his mobile. Very strange afternoon, but the makiatos were lovely.

I have spent all afternoon relaxing, and looking at the mirror in surprise as to how red I have gone from today’s very hot weather (Daniel had gone down from 6 t-shirts to just 2) and written up the last few days adventures. I have also borrowed back my old camera which I had already donated to the sisters so I am not camera-less, but I did feel a little embarrassed and silly. My other camera is sat in my drawer. Maybe it will fix itself.

Next decision is about mass for the weekend; in the catholic churches masses are celebrated in Ge’ez, an ancient Semitic language. We have a few choices, the ‘quick’ mass in the church next door from 5.30-6.30am tomorrow or the two-hour full job from 6.30am to 8.30am. John has sneaked in from 7.30 to see the consecration and as you have no idea what is going on in Ge’ez anyway this is apparently acceptable (authorised by the sisters!). Alternatively we can go up to St Teresa’s, near the Salesian school where we went last week at 7am. Tough, tough choices…

…oh and those batteries have run out already.

A people untouched by… McDonalds! (03/08)

Perhaps teaching in an Ethiopian school would not be so bad after all, for it seems that teachers there have little marking to do. Tedros has decided instead of coming in at the end of my lessons to do a question and answer session, which has limited success in all fairness, each two students are nominated to write a report of each lesson. They present this to the rest of the class at the start of the next lesson. It’s a good idea and helps them grow in confidence speaking in front of their peers, whilst learning the skills of report reading and summarising. I offered to take in the written reports of the students today and mark them, helping them further improve with corrections. I have rarely seen someone’s face light up like Gebreyesus’. He excitedly said, “Are you going to correct my mistakes? Can I have it back afterwards to learn from them?” “Yes”, I replied, “do you not get work marked for corrections usually?” He replied, “Not really.”, but by his reaction I guessed he was trying to be polite about the inadequacies of the Ethiopian Government education system. It certainly doesn’t seem to do too many favours to the street children.

I am enjoying my time in the project more and more, I am less nervous about walking into the classroom and I am far more confident about what I am doing. Equally, I am buoyed on by the fact I am having some success! With my morning group, after doing some expert shopping with some adlibbed lines in the role plays such as “That is not my favourite brand of cigar. Do you have another?” and “My shopping is too heavy. Do you have the number for a taxi?”. Daniel asked me, “Why is it you always smile Andy?”. I told him it was impossible not to in their class.

We also did a ‘A-Team’ versus ‘B-Team’ quiz covering all we had learnt this week, it turned into quite a riot, but nearly all the students seemed to had learned a fair bit. Surprising to many, I must be an effective English teacher! It was the first day that I felt confident about what I was doing, I was comfortable and getting more into things. It was only natural that it would take a little time, but this is something very new to me!

During the break, I spent time talking to Hialu, who used to be a student at the project for many years. He has now managed to get a job working as a women’s hairdresser. He is very proud of his job, but tells me it pays very little and that is why he returns to project for lunch most days. He told me that Friday was actually his one day-off this week and he had come to the project to help out where he can, and because he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. As much as I want to celebrate in the success of Hialu managing to get one of the few jobs in the Ethiopian economy, there is a big part of me that still struggles to see it as the complete answer to a young man like Hialu’s problems.

I spent about 20 minutes going through my little photo album again today, the children really do love it. They think Sarah, who is in fact 15 looks ‘at least 30’, I’m not sure she will be too happy with that. I had an amazing moment though, when they pointed to Southend High Street’s finest eating establishment, McDonalds and asked what it was. I was genuinely shocked that I was sat with around 30 children who did not have a clue about McDonalds. It was a truly liberating moment as I told them, that I hoped that never find out (hiding my secret and sudden craving for a McChicken sandwich, large fries and still Fanta). I said, it is a fast-food restaurant that serves chips and burgers. They asked if I went often, I said never.

Today, I also decided that I would begin a ‘name-to-photo’ project. Me and Tommy have lots of photos already between us and I have used photos to help me learn the names of the students in my classes (although there is still some way to go!). However there are lots more people involved in the project and students that I don’t teach who I have photos of and spend my time with. I am terrible with names at the best of times, and struggle to recall all my friends and family at times, so I thought I would begin labelling up pictures of as many students as possible. When I come home I do not want to look at pictures of ‘a load of street children’, because that is not what they are. Abba Gebremichael School has over a hundred gifted, inspirational, funny, clever and caring students and I want to at least be able to refer to them by name, even when my memory is failing me in a few months time! John has an amazing gift for remembering names and I hope that he will help me in this task.

On the way home I treated myself and John to some belus. These ‘cactus fruit’ are really growing on me and I genuinely believe you could eat them all day and never get full but be totally refreshed. Most of the children (particularly the street children) will go to collect them at one point or another. This involves a long pole with a nail on it and a little precision. They are then sold in large bowls at the roadside. It is a small income for the children and we obviously find ‘our’ children. Me and John found Trhas and bought 6 from her and sister. They were delicious and superior to the ones we had at St Vincent’s, Trhas loved that when we told her, and cost us just 6 Birr (35p). We also felt pleased we were helping out where we could in different way. Each student at Abba Gebremichael pays 10cents (0.5p) per day for their food in order to teach them not to rely on charity and handouts. This was being counted in the sewing room/staff room/office and is used to offset some of the costs. I found out the main sponsor of the project is Caritas Germany. I got this from John’s blog that I spent an hour and half reading today, it is a source of information and background details on Mekele and the Daughter and their work, which I will add in future (with credit!).

Asiz and Elsie are our wonderful housekeepers at St Vincent’s. They run the place and keep everything as it should be. One of their roles is washing clothes and I rather sheepishly took my first load of t-shirts to be washed. I wanted to do it myself, but there is certain etiquette regarding how you treat ‘staff’ in Ethiopia (Tommy had got himself in right trouble for using the staff toilet as the other ones were busy!). Sr. Medhin had told us to wash our pants and socks ourselves, which was no bother, except my boxers seem to be taking an exceedingly long time to dry. Things are getting close to critical – especially as I managed to put my foot through the middle of one of my 5 pairs! Tommy has lent me a needle and thread by I am little worried to admit that I don’t actually know how to sow. I could take them up to the project to be sewn I guess, or I could just find a shop and buy some more.

John took me and Tommy shopping today for a present for Sr Fisseha. It was her birthday today, but she had forgotten until another sister had phoned her from Addis to wish her happy birthday. At lunchtime we sang her ‘Happy Birthday’ as well as ‘For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ which I think bemused her, but equally appreciated. At the project, we had a small coffee ceremony where both Tommy and I ate far too much popcorn, although in fairness, it was left in front of us! On our shopping trip we managed to buy a card, which had all nature of intricate pop up parts, and a box of chocolates from a supermarket in the main shopping street. It was good to see a shop with prices already labelled, we had already paid ‘faranji price’ for the card so it was relief to get the present for normal price. We then stopped for a drink and had a mirinda (fizzy orange) as our mission was accomplished. During our café break, there was the usual stream of young children selling tissues, dodgy looking CDs/DVDs and lotto scratch cards. I guess someone, somewhere must buy them, but I am yet to see evidence of it. John did point of the ‘Axum Gift Shop’ where we can buy some local and traditional goods to take home for friends and family. I warn you now, it looks like leather and silver are the way forward with both being of very good quality at low prices.

Walking into and through the busier parts of town there are things that keep reminding you exactly where you are. I still find it difficult to walk past the beggars: children, the disabled, the immeasurably poor. The trouble is, to give one beggar some money would mean being mobbed by every other beggar and opportunist. We are constantly told to be careful about giving anything to anyone by the sisters as it does not take long to get a reputation as a ‘faranji who gives things’ and as soon as you get that, there will never be a seconds peace. My conscience constantly does battle with this though and probably 1Birr would make a lot of difference to many of these people. I guess through my donations and fundraising for the project, as well as my work there, I am doing the right thing in the long run for this community. Buying belus from our students and taking them out for the odd drink here and there is a better way of channelling my charity. I still feel gutted and helpless when I see people lying in the street with a little begging dish in front of them, obviously suffering from malnutrition and varying illness, disease or disability. Remember there are no government benefits to be had here, none. No social welfare and no old age or disability pensions.

Today was also the day of the first mosquito. I have not seen or heard any since I arrived and consequently gave up on the mosquito net after the first night. I have hardly used any of my repellent and usually have my bedside light on instead of my plug in insect repellent. Maybe these will be decisions I regret at some point but for the time being I think I am pretty safe. Mekele is also not a malaria danger zone as it is between 2150-2270 meters above sea level. However, bites are still irritating and itchy. The aforementioned one mosquito was in my room and after around 5 minutes leaping around I managed to ‘get him’ and cover the wall in blood. Obviously someone else had been ‘got’ by him first!

We ended the day with the trio of faranji heading out for some tradition Ethiopian grub. Very close to St Vincent’s there is a place called Maharito which serves very good local food and as me and Tommy so far have only been dined out on pizza so far we thought it would be a good idea. We all had tibis (pronounced tibs, we think) which are small bits of meat which come served on a little charcoal burner served with both bread and injera. At a guess, it was steak, with onions and a few peppers but it was actually delicious. For someone who has not long eaten meat, I really enjoyed it. Incidentally, it was a good idea I trained my stomach up to eat pretty much anything as it has suffered a fair bit of abuse on the food front and so far has held up pretty well. For that reason, I avoided the spicy sauce that the tibis are served with!

The Boy with the Baby Tongue (1/8)

We are pretty much a week in now and settling into Mekele life. The routines are familiar and the sights, sounds and smells of Ethiopia are now nothing new. However, I find the more I talk to the people and get to know exactly how they live their lives, the harder I find it is to accept certain things. Even witnessing everything first hand, it is still difficult to comprehend certain things about life in Mekele.

We sat in the sun, talking to Sammy the trainee accountant. He told us about life in Tigray for the average Ethiopian. Most people earn around 7 or 8 Birr per day, which equals around 35-45p. However, there are many more who earn less than this. Even those educated with a Masters degree can only expect to earn around 2000Birr a month (£110), and this after it costs around 14,000Birr to study for a Masters (£780). Apparently the market is open for investment and any foreign country is allowed to invest in Ethiopia. As Sammy reminded us, the government does not have much more funding for industrial investment after it has tried to cater for the basic needs of the population. I do wonder about the possibilities if over the next few years businesses invest in Ethiopia. It is certainly a country on the up, but one that is still suffering from extreme poverty and massive problems. Speaking to people like Sammy, Ethiopians seem confident that their country will emerge into the international markets and be a successful and prosperous nation. Only time will tell, but seeing the optimism of the people fills me with confidence that maybe all these things will be possible. These people certainly deserve more than their current deal.

We are quickly learning other things about Ethiopian culture; firstly that Ethiopians do not have surnames! There are two Sr. Medhins at St Vincent’s and we asked how we could differentiate between them. We were told that we had to work out our own way… However it does seem that they do have a second name, Sr. Medhin Tesfaye and Sr. Medhin Abrhamas. Their second name is very simply, their mothers’ first name. Interestingly, as we talking at dinner last night, it seems towards Alitena everyone is related to everyone (particularly Sr. Desta’s family!) and it is a good job they do not have surnames or they would all be the same! This is the area that most of the sisters come from, by the Eritrean border, and houses a large Catholic community. Most of the sisters are travelling to Alitena tomorrow for the Bishop’s father’s funeral. He died today, but in Ethiopian you are buried very quickly. Catholic funerals generally take place the next day; whilst Orthodox funerals are generally the same day as death. I guess there are practical as well as cultural reasons for this.

Tommy and I are also getting to know the staff around St Vincent’s even better. The guards are always incredibly friendly, and I am most impressed with blind guard. His hearing and mind must be incredibly sharp as he hears coming from a long way off, I think he is also recognising our knock on the gates! We have also sussed out how to get our washing done, although socks and pants we have to do ourselves. I am already past the stage where I need to have all clothes freshly washed each day... Another person we have got to know is Sahi is a woman who lives in the guardhouse and helps out around the compound. She speaks very little English but has been at St Vincent’s for around 10 years. She suffers from some form of dementia and the sisters tell us that she is ‘very harmless but not of sound mind’. However, she calls me ‘the boy with the baby tongue’ as I do not speak any Tigrinyian to her!

Divided… (31/7)

…is apparently what Mekele means. Although it seems no one can tell us by what it is divided or by whom. The Queen of Sheba used to hang around in these parts so perhaps it goes back that far. If I get any
further in solving mystery, I'll let you know. It is certainly a rapidly growing town and it is suggested that now it is in the top five largest Ethiopian cities. It is also the capital of the Tigray region (impressive given the historical importance of Axum).

Me and Tommy are both continuing to get a better idea of the task in front of us. It seems that in government schools students are taught English in classes of around 50. This leaves very little possibility for individual development, questioning and conversation. This is where we step in it seems. I feel now that I am getting to know the
children individually, and equally importantly they are getting to know me. They keep asking me to look at the school prospectus and want to look over and over at my photo album. My photos fascinate the children: my sisters are apparently very pretty (I told them it was a family thing), my house is 'sooo lovely', Southend looks 'amazing'
(Gebreyesus promises me one day he will visit me there), and my 'chick' is 'hot' which I think roughly translates as Naomi being very pretty too. It seems the boys are big fans of English girls as well English football. It's reassuring to know that they have more than one topic of conversation!

On Monday evening, Seamus and Hilu from the CAFOD Addis office met us for dinner. I am reluctant to admit we went to a very pleasant restaurant and ate pizza and drank Italian wine. However, to remind me that we were still in fact in Mekele, when I went to the toilet the corrugated metal roof was leaking on my head. We spent the evening
discussing the project work that Seamus and Hilu are involved in which is mainly agricultural. They work with communities trying to find more effective ways for them to farm. Apparently they (some Ethiopian
farmers, not Seamus and Hilu) have just discovered that apples grow very well in Ethiopia and this may a future market for farmers. We also discussed at length the fascinating, but sometimes bizarre, practises of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. This is something I am desperate to find out more about (especially as their singing and drum
banging through the night adds further to my sleep problems!).

Plans were discussed of how best to spend out weekends outside of Mekele. I am most looking forward to hearing tales of the weird and wonderful with perhaps a smattering of truth when visiting the rock-hewn churches of Tigray. There are many stories connected with these churches that are mixed with cultural and religious input from
the Coptic Church, Judaism and Islam. We also hope to travel to Axum where we can visit the church of St Mary of Zion where the Ark of the Covenant is kept, but only one living priest is allowed to see it so I don't hold out much hope of being convinced its resting place is Ethiopia (but don't tell the Ethiopians I said that!).

On our return from dinner, we met John. A Mayo man, he is staying in Mekele as a volunteer with the Daughters for the second time. He visited for two weeks last summer and returned on a 3-month secondment from his job in an industrial pharmaceutical firm. He had just returned from Alitena where he has been for the last 3 weeks. He
worked in the street children project earlier in his stay and has been a good source of advice already! After meeting John we decided to move to the lounge to see the sisters. What we walked in on had to be seen to be believed! Sr Abeba and Sr Abeba (one from Alitena, one from Addis) were both dressed for bed and wrapped up in blankets, beds were laid out on the floor and all the sisters were in high spirits. It was like some big nuns sleep over party!

Our second day of teaching was naturally much better than the first. I did some work on grammar with the students, which was interesting. They were far more responsive and enthusiastic to this than I though they might have been and this gave me great encouragement for what would be possible over the next few weeks.

I am very glad that I have never followed the rule of not smiling in the classroom. Already it has become clear that the beneficiaries at the project love to be smiled at and smiling back in return. I guess some of them have rarely experience the love and warmth that is given to them at the Abba Gebremichael School. Their faces show such joy as they light up. I don't think it is something I will be able to capture on film, but certainly something that will never leave me.

I had to go to sleep for an hour after lunch, firstly as I had probably eaten too much again, "Please – have some more!" and secondly as I am having real difficult sleeping. We are having many electrical storms and very heavy rainfall at night, which is keeping me up. My sleep is also very restless and each day I make my bed, only to awake
to find it totally trashed again! The sisters are now getting concerned about my tiredness but I tried to explain to them I am used to only getting 6 hours sleep. The altitude, change of climate, change of diet and everything else totally different in my life at the moment can't be helping!

In the afternoon, we actually stayed a bit later after classes. Up until this point we had been encouraged to get back to St Vincent's to relax. I am finding I have too much spare time; I wouldn't miss Essex and those I love half as much if I was busy all the time! I am trying to busy myself a little more by working on my laptop, although with
the storms power cuts are getting more frequent and no power means candlelight and time alone…

We witnessed the music club, dance section, rehearsing which was fascinating. They performed Tigrignian, Amharic, Oromignaian (south Ethiopian) dances, being lead and taught by 'Mango'. He is one of the older beneficiaries who has been involved in the project for many years. He has received training in photography from CAFOD and teaches
dance in his free time to the very enthusiastic children. Like at the coffee ceremony there was lots of shuffling and shoulder wiggling and dropping, They wanted me to join in, I said maybe next week…

Another new thing today was walking home from the project. Our 'guards', Gebreyesus and his friend escorted us to Comel internet café. It was interesting to walk and gave the opportunity to look into all the small shops, and see exactly how delicately some of the buildings are constructed with bits of wood, corrugated metal, cement
and brick. I even noticed a cactus growing, quite contently, on the roof of one building! I had felt a little sheltered from the reality of Mekele by sitting in the 4x4 with Gary! It also meant we got more calls of "Faranji" than usual, but also reassuring that if need be there were a great deal of 'sooooft tisssuuuues' on sale from the children on the main road. A few beggars asked us for money, but did not give us any hassle when we said we had no change – most people
just wanted to say hello, or "Hi man" or "How you doing?"; interesting to see American culture has even hit Tigray!

I have made a valiant attempt at learning the beneficiaries' names, although with the lack of consistency in attendance and whether they turn up to the morning or afternoon session, this will be a tough task! I took photos of all the students at the end of the classes today and wanted to print them off so I could write names (and pronunciation of names) on the sheet. This proved more difficult that I though, and it seems not many in Mekele use the colour printing facility in Comel! It took 20 minutes and in the end we had to settle for a black and white copy. At least it was cheaper…

Dinner was again like a party. There were 12 of us and it was Sr Medhin's last night before heading to Addis for a retreat. We were playing a game of guess the sisters age and taught them the phrase 'thick skinned' for someone who can take a lot of micky taking – as Sr Fana did during the meal! We had many power cuts and half of dinner
was eaten by candlelight.

After dinner, Tommy and I got down to business with Sr Medhin. We wanted to ask her, before she departed for two weeks, as to how best to use the items we had brought with us as well as the money we had collected. The books and pens we had brought would be saved until September; this will save the Daughters having to buy new equipment
for the beneficiaries for the start of the new academic year. The reading books will be added to the school library that is mainly full of badly worn and out of date books. We are also going to have a school trip to Alitena, taking a load of the boys up to near the Eritrean border for a few days. They have been asking to go for months and Sr Medhin thought this would be good for them as many have never left Mekele. Alitena is certainly of the beaten track and I have been unable to find it on any maps I have looked at!

The project is also building a new school; they currently rent the premises where Abba Gebremichael School is currently situated. It has moved a few times over the last 14 years, and pays rent of around 1000Birr (£55) per month to use the less than adequate compound. A new site was found and some building has already taken place. The new
building has a large hall, several classrooms, proper offices, a space where Tedros can actually do his social work and counselling without interruption, better kitchen and shower facilities. The project staff are very excited about this, but still do not have all the funding. There is no money currently for any equipment to go into the school,
which is where we can help out. On her return, Sr Medhin is going to price up all the things we want to do with the street children and hopefully make improvements both in the immediate and long term futures of these very special young people. Here is a good place to thank you all again for your generosity. It really will be life changing for these children.

Already each evening the students ask excitedly and expectantly, "Are you back in the morning?" and I have learnt my first Tigrignaian, 'naga-negane' – 'see you tomorrow!'. They are also desperate for us to go to their football training, 1 o'clock. This seemed okay, until they said, 'that's 7am European time'. However, a compromise has been made
and we are all off to see the Charity Shield somewhere on Sunday afternoon.

I Don’t Like Sundays (29/7) & First Day in School (30/7)

Tommy went to the football pitches this morning. He went for a morning walk and met up with some of the children from the project. They were very keen to show him where they played football and he went along. He was chatting away to them and covering all the usual football topics, including Darren Fletcher and Alex Ferguson and any other Scottish sporting connections the boys could remember. He then asked them about the project and they said how much they got from it and how they really enjoyed it. Tommy then asked them if they enjoyed Sundays and Daniel replied, “No, because we don’t get to eat on Sundays”.

---------------------------------------------------------

An early night on Sunday felt like being back in England, and similarly, Monday morning meant off to school. Tommy and I stood in the courtyard waiting for Gary, our driver, to collect us. We were both nervous about what the day had in store. We had met many of the beneficiaries already but were we ready for the classroom?

I began by reintroducing myself; I had the more advanced group who I knew had some grasp of English. I did not want to insult them by making the lessons too easy, but equally didn’t want to give them impossible tasks! We focused on conversation and how to get to know a stranger. They seemed to enjoy the work, particularly getting up at the front to show off their ability. For the last part of the session, I got out the school prospectus and showed them an English school. They were amazed and had many questions. I felt a pride in my own place of work, but also a terrible sadness. The nine boys in my class today would do anything to spend just a day in an English school.

After a tea break, we practised the new vocabulary a little more before getting out the songbooks. My friend Nick produced these in advance of the trip and I think will prove to be very popular. I have promised to teach them a new song each day, we sang “You Are My Sunshine” today, a song Cahal had already taught them. However, we learnt two new verses today. They wanted to keep singing and singing. I’ve also promised to get the guitar out tomorrow.

After a long lunch back at St Vincent’s we returned to Abba Gemichael’s (this is the name of the school for the street children project we found out). Gary very kindly took us back via the bank where we changed some Dollars into Birr. There was a massive queue downstairs, but we got taken to an upstairs office where the staff were incredibly friendly. They were asking us what we were doing in Mekele and even asked us if we wanted to stop for coffee! I now have a few thousand Birr in my pocket to pay for internet access and dinner out this evening with Seamus and Hilu from the Addis CAFOD office.

The afternoon class had around 30 students in it and was a lot more noisy and lively than the morning lessons. They were a little slower on the uptake and it was harder to work out which students were keeping up. I also had less time with the group, as the afternoon sessions are shorter. We went through basic introductions, where a few of the girls displayed more developed English showing off in front of the boys. Some things don’t change wherever you are in the world!

At the end, Sr. Fisseha introduced me to some of the music group. These were some of the success stories of the street children project, Isaac who I had met before is a guitarist in the band and has recently completed an IT course. Another of the students is training to be an art and design teacher. Having these kind of role models must be inspirational to other beneficiaries. There is a way to escape the poverty and hardship of being a street child and these students, through hard work, are an example of that. Hopefully some of the students we work with over the next five weeks will go on to such successes and I feel honoured to be a part of that.

It was not as tough as I thought it might be. I still feel a great need to impress and be the most effective teacher I can be. Tedros seemed very pleased and basically told us they are so grateful that anything we do is fantastic. I set myself high standards and hope that the children can progress a great deal in the next 5 weeks. It is going to be hard and I am still finding it difficult to get to terms with the lack of writing that goes on, however Tedros says that from tomorrow he will make sure they have notebooks to at least jot some things down. One thing I am really looking forward to is getting through my “Europe to Ethiopia” songbook!

The rain today has been torrential. All afternoon we have had the most heavy of rain. Luckily I have escaped getting too soaked but this is the rainy season here. It makes the usually dusty and dry unmade roads into mini-rivers and incredibly muddy. For the last few days there has only been brief showers followed by beautiful hot sunshine. However, not today: it is early evening and still it pours.
Also, the sister have said that if we want to receive post we can send it to their PO box. Nothing of value should be sent, as security is poor and often things get opened (Mekele postal workers apparently shrug their shoulders and say it arrived like that!). It’s “PO Box 69, Mekele, Tigray, Ethiopia” and mark with Andy or ‘Endreas’ as I seem to be know these days!

A Traditional Mekele Welcome (28/7)

It seems Tommy is an early riser, although he claims this is due to chanting that takes place at the Ethiopian Orthodox church nearby at around 4am. On the other hand, I try to get every last minute of sleep possible! Today is our second trip to the street children project and we are both full of excitement and nerves.

Last night we spent time with Sr Fisseha learning more about some of the beneficiaries (students). The first power cut since our arrival seemed to signal an early bedtime, but we found enough candles to get by enjoying tea and biscuits as we chatted. The sisters' English is good and they enjoy hearing about our families and lives back in the UK.

We were due to depart from St Vincent's at 9am, but our driver did not arrive so we spent some time with Samme, the trainee accountant. He was interested in whereabouts we lived and using Encarta maps we found both Greenock and Chelmsford. He also gave us a sample of Ethiopian pop music, which sounded very similar to Asian music. Samme is desperate to continue his studies in the UK and I hope I can help him investigate this possibility before I leave.

When we finally arrived at the project compound, all the beneficiaries and staff clapped energetically. It was quite over whelming and I felt like some kind of celebrity. I guess in the Mekele that's what we are- from a different, fascinating world. Special seats had been reserved for us at the front and we were about to take part in a traditional Ethiopia coffee ceremony and witness an entertainment show put on by the beneficiaries!

Two of the girl beneficiaries prepared the coffee for us as popcorn and biscuits were passed around. The coffee was rich tasting and quite strong. A good amount of sugar took away the natural bitterness and as each 'round' was finished, the girls prepared another! (We ended up having three cups which is traditional) Luckily Aluma and Daniel, a beneficiary with excellent English, were our translators as various 'games' and acts took to the stage. These included bobbing for bananas, a quiz show type game, an onion chopping contest and a race where contestants had a sweet attached to a long thread which they had to raise up to their mouth. It was hugely entertaining proving humour really is a universal language. Daniel and his friend Isaac were very keen to take photos for us, although some editing will need to be done due to their trigger-happy and slightly wonky camera work! It was good to see them wanting to be involved and help us, as well as gain confidence using technology. Hopefully over the next few weeks I can help them improve their camera work! Some of the younger beneficiaries performed a traditional dance for us which involved lots of shuffling and shoulder dropping. It was then our turn to take to the stage as Aluma introduced us and we had to share a few words with the expectant crowd of around a hundred.

After the celebrations, Tommy and I met with Aluma and Tedros to talk about our teaching schedule. Due to the number of students attending the project over the summer, each beneficiary is allocated either a morning or afternoon session. The project runs from 8am to 12 noon and then from 2pm to 5pm (2-6 and 7-11 Ethiopian time; the day begins at sunrise, 6am ), and we would be expected to provide tutorials, in English, from 9am until 10am and from 2pm until 3pm. We went through some of the topics that it would be useful to cover and I suddenly felt a lot more comfortable about what was ahead. Aluma further reassured me by telling me that, "No-one can be a bad teacher!"

To clarify a little more about the education system in Ethiopia, Government schools provide education up to 10 ^th grade (age 14-15). Students then must pass an exam to continue their study. If they do not, they leave with nothing. Traditionally most street children would fail this, if they got to the examination stage at all. The Daughters of Charity project exists to enhance the street children's education, to help them pass that exam to return to government schooling. This sounds simple enough, but the Daughters work is far from that.

Providing an education that is more suited to the street children, and one where there is more compassion is vital. A number of the street children have been removed from government schools, as the schools are unable or unwilling to provide for their more demanding needs. In fact, Sr Fisseha told us when the project started the children were totally wild and out of control, trying to break everything and fighting with each other. They now know the expectations of the project and how they must behave if they want to be a beneficiary. Over the past few days, I have learnt about the many other ways in which the street children benefit from the project. Firstly, Tedros and Sr Medhin are trained social workers (they trained in Uganda, as it is not possible to train in Ethiopia) and they council the children, many of whom come from varying degrees of broken homes or difficult situations. There are a number who have no home at all. Many home visits take place to help the students and their families.

The project also provides both breakfast and lunch to children who otherwise would not eat. Additionally beneficiaries are referred to medical centres when it is required, whilst they are taught basic hygiene and how to look after themselves too. Showers are provided at the project and they are given clothes twice a year. As well as their formal education, there is a large emphasis on developing leadership skills, celebrating Ethiopian and African culture, working on drama, art, embroidery and musical skills - and of course sport!

As we walked back through the compound, the beneficiaries were eating lunch. They kept offering us some of their lunch. At first I tried to politely decline, suggesting they should eat it themselves. They wouldn't give up though! I took just a few grains of rice from each which made them so happy, their smiles saying far more than words ever could. All of sudden, I was being mobbed; all the students were desperate to share their lunch with me!

I found this difficult to understand. I know it is part of Ethiopia culture to be very welcoming and share all you have with guests, but surely when you have nothing, you have nothing to share? It seems this is not the case, the beneficiaries are very grateful for what they are given, but equally they are keen to share with others. There is something truly amazing about these children and this one moment really touched me. I hope I can bring back even part of this example of generosity and selflessness on my return to the UK.

Tedros was very keen to hear about the songbook I had brought with me and said the students loved to learn English songs. Music is very important at the project and the school band have a good local reputation, in fact they had been booked to play outside of Mekele on Sunday, something they were very excited about. It is a means of them earning a small income, and self-sufficiency is encouraged by the project. The children must learn to live in a way not totally reliant on charity and handouts. Cahill, an Irish SVP volunteer has left his guitar here which will help me out looking at the state of some of the other guitars. Tedros wants me to start on Monday. Daniel has also got me lined up to play in the football team; he is very keen to show me their football ground.

The positive vibes in the project were impossible to ignore, Sr Fisseha told us last night that she went on retreat for two weeks and missed the street children so much and couldn't wait to get back. I was already feeling a bond to the project and can't wait for Monday!

As we were about to leave, some of the boys came up and asked, "Are you really a supporter of Southend United? I am a big Manchester United fan and I was very upset in the Carling Cup last year!". Brilliant! Our victory really was a global event, and the boys probably thought they would never get to meet a Shrimpers fan in the flesh. I've got a big Southend united flag that I am going to put up in my classroom.

We returned to St Vincent's to work out some lesson plans and have lunch. Saturday is only a half-day for all the sisters and so we had a very enjoyable extended lunch with Sr Fasa and Sr Nesta who are studying as nurses. Young Sr Medhin and a seminarian joined us too. He was interested in my study of theology and when I saw him again later at mass (in English at the Salesians school nearby) he took my email address for help when he is at theological college in Nairobi next year.

To give you some idea of why both me and Tommy will come back a few pounds heavier, the most commonly used phrase at dinner is, "Please - Have some more!". It is a relentless cry from the sisters and they are determined to fatten us up before our return to the UK. Cahill apparently went home nearly a stone lighter due him going running each morning; perhaps he had the right idea! However, the Daughters are now under strict instructions from their Mother Superior to feed all volunteers very well! Mealtimes are always a lot of fun and there is non-stop jokes and laughter. Tommy had expected a more formal and sober environment living in a religious community but there is so much joy and contentment found in the sisters that St Vincent's couldn't be anything but a relaxed and enjoyable place to stay. The sisters can only see positives in all they do and all they encounter. This is a tough call when you are working with the poorest of the poor.

We have witnessed some of the promised rain today; a brief but heavy shower. However, I have also sneaked enough time sat in the sun that I am beginning to pick up a little colour! Plenty of sun cream is being used, which is a novelty for me, but even just walking around when it is overcast you can feel the power of the sun. An interesting thing we found out today is that there are no street names in Mekele. Apparently some roads in Addis have names (but they often change). This makes the postal system rather interesting and it is common to simply arrange a post box somewhere. John, another SVP volunteer, is returning from Adigrat on Tuesday is going to help us sort out one of these.

In the evening, after dinner, we retire to the lounge with the sisters to watch TV and chat. I got out the school prospectuses that I had brought with me from St John Payne School where I work. I went through them with the sisters showing them the uniform, the main hall, all the facilities, the school trips and so on. They were in awe; totally amazed. Sr Nesta kept saying over and over, "Do your students know how lucky they are?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her the answer.

First 24hrs in Mekele (27/7)

Tommy and I both had hopes of losing a few pounds whilst in Ethiopia. On evidence of the first day with the Daughters of Charity, it seems like the opposite may be end up being true! Their hospitality has been truly exceptional in every sense and I already feel at home; relaxed and at ease. I do apologise if this entry goes on a bit, but I'm still just overcome by it all!

On arrival, our rooms were already prepared for us; they are more than adequate providing a sink, desk, bed, wardrobe and bedside cabinet. Tommy is even complaining his bed is too comfy! Our rooms open out into a courtyard, one of two that make up the sisters compound. This is a pleasant area in which to relax and soak up a little sun (we keep being told it is rainy season and it rains all the time, but there has been little evidence so far!). There are several bath rooms for us to use and I tried out the shower for the first time this morning – its better than my one at home!

As soon as our bags were in our rooms, Sr Medhin prepared a snack for us and we tried out the very highly recommended local honey. It was also a relief that 'Addis Tea' is very similar to English tea but is actually grown in Ethiopia. It is usual to take powdered milk with hot drinks as the fresh milk is usually only available in the mornings in limited supply and it is full cream so not ideal for tea. They also have some lovely raspberry custard cream types biscuits. I am a big fan already!

We shared dinner with a number of the sisters, those from St Vincent's where we are staying, as well as sisters living in the Daughters of Charity other nearby house. They were very welcoming and we began to learn more about the different work that each of them are involved in. The food was excellent, but all very new and strange on English taste buds. The sisters were very understanding and explained what each thing was. Various types of vegetables, potatoes, meats were all prepared by the sisters' cook and meant we had the choice of around 6 or 7 dishes. These were all eaten with a large sour doughy pancake type thing called injera. I found it worked well at taking the edge of the more spicy food, although it is a slightly acquired taste! A previous volunteer described it as 'dirty bandage', which I think meant he was not that keen. It is made from fermented tef (a uniquely Ethiopian grain), which results in a rubbery texture and the sour taste. You scoop up the wat (stew) in the injera. I even had a bottle of the local beer, Dashen, with my dinner and the sisters have bought in Pepsi and Fanta to make us feel even more welcome. After dinner we retired to the lounge (we were excused washing up duty) to relax and watch some TV. English channels are limited, but there is BBC World and Aljazeera to keep us amused. We spoke at length to Sr Tsege who was visiting from the south of Ethiopia and is in charge of a teacher training initiative. It was interesting to hear how teaching methods are changing in the country, moving towards a child centred approach. An early night was required and so time to start playing games with mosquito repellent and nets…

Friday was our first full day in Mekele and we were under strict instructions to have a lie in and relax! I managed to stay in bed until around 9am when I got up to find that Tommy had been about for a few hours already. After washing and dressing we set about organising and sorting all the equipment that we had brought with us. Bags of football shirts, bags of pens, pencils, books, cameras all got put into piles ready to be used as Sr Fisseha sees as appropriate in the project.

It is Sr Fisseha who is in charge of the street children school project and seeing us ready and excited to get involved, sent us off with Tedros the project social worker to visit the school in the afternoon. Even as we pulled into the school gates in the truck the boys outside were waving to us. It brought a huge smile to my face knowing how pleased they were to see us. This is what we were here for!

Tedros first took us to the office, one of the 4 or 5 rooms along one side of the school courtyard. Here he showed us photos of the project work including the music, drama groups and football teams. We saw the large photo frame Anna and Susan (last year's volunteers) had put together and I just really hoped we could have as much of a positive effect on the students. While we were in the office, the gates reopened for the afternoon session and we were naturally being 'checked out' by the students. They were incredibly friendly and welcoming, shaking hands and exchanging names. Apparently I look like Wayne Rooney and some of the kids kept going "Rooney, Rooney". Always good to have an early nickname in school!

We spent some time talking to the most forthcoming of the boys. One of the boys Daniel has a good grasp of English and he is going to look after us. We discussed football teams at some length, it seems most of the boys are Manchester United fans, but also Chelsea, Liverpool, Arsenal and Derby (!?!) supporters here too. Five weeks time and the only team they'll know is Southend, trust me. I have already spent five minutes explaining about a little 1-0 victory from last season…

After a brief time at the school we returned to St Vincent's. The boys were upset that we were going so soon, but we promised them we would be back tomorrow. They were just so eager to spend time with us. It made me even more excited about what lay ahead in the next few weeks. Seeing the classrooms also made the challenges that lie ahead more real. I'm not sure I have ever written on a blackboard before, so I better learn fast!

Aluma who is the Daughters' accountant took us out around the town to try and get our bearings. Our main aim was to work out which is the nearest and best internet café to use. I feel my email will be the one thing that keeps me going when homesickness kicks in and I start to feel every one of those miles between Essex and Tigray. Mekele is a busy town that serves not only its own population but also that of all the rural surrounding areas. It has many shops and bars, most of which are along a few main roads.

The closest internet café only has 3 computers, but Robin who worked there seemed familiar with the various volunteers that had stayed with the Daughters. There was a queue and so we made our way to the next closest café. This had more computers, but was slightly more expensive (10Birr instead of 8Birr per hour – 55p instead of 44p). The connection was very slow and we had great difficulty in sending and receiving our mail. Apparently this common, but it does get faster sometimes. Let's hope!

Me and Tommy decided to have a wander around the local area with our new found confidence. It is very strange to be stared at by nearly every person on the street; conversations stop and people stop in their tracks to look. There are seemingly very few 'faranji' in Mekele, but we get little hassle. An attempt to have a look around the Catholic church which is next to the community compound and where the sisters go to mass each morning at 6am results in a meeting with both the priest-in-charge and his assistant priest. They welcome us and the assistant shows us around. I'm not sure how often we will make mass there as it is in Tigrigna and it is only at 6am ( 6.30am on Sunday).

It has been an exhilarating day. Firstly, I feel more aware of the task in hand now; I've seen the school and I've met some of the students. I also feel humbled by the kindness and generosity of all those I come across in Ethiopia. It is difficult to imagine how I could be made to feel more welcome and it seems I will be very comfortable and well looked after during my stay. However, I still can't quite believe I am actually here. For someone who has never been further from home than holidaymakers Europe, coming to Mekele is a very big deal and at the minute feels like a very great honour.

London to Mekele (26/7)

After a rather stressful few hours at Heathrow (split holdalls, no padlocks, a forgotten yellow fever immunisation certificate, queue jumpers etc) Tommy and I boarded our flight to Addis Ababa. The adventure had truly begun…

Final goodbyes to loved ones had been said via phone and text during dinner before we left on this six-week adventure into the great unknown. We were both a little nervous; full of great expectation, yet also apprehension. This was a fantastic opportunity to travel to a fascinating and historical sub-Saharan country; a country described as
being truly African due to its lack of foreign occupation. Yet it was also something very much outside the 'comfort-zone'. Shopping for items such as sterile needle kits and debating whether or not to take HIV PEPs brought home the fact that there was an element of risk involved in such a trip. There is also the fact there is a school of a
hundred or so street children in Mekele waiting for us with expectation, not to mention the six sisters we would be living with and working alongside. What would they be hoping we could bring to project? I know I can teach RE in a classroom in Chelmsford with my interactive whiteboard and my DVDs and textbooks and the photocopier
downstairs. Would I be able to help improve the English of these children? I hope and pray that I can. However, if all else fails, I've got a load of Southend United shirts to give them!

Hopefully that explains the nerves a little.

The seven-hour flight was enjoyable. We had dinner, non-stop drinks and breakfast on the plane. The service was excellent, if a little relentless. I was desperate for sleep but every time I dozed off I was woken up being asked if I wanted another gin and tonic. I didn't, as their measures were very large and I had already had two. Or it was
another meal, I'm pretty sure breakfast came round at about 4am. I certainly didn't want hot flannels at around 3am either.

Our arrival in Addis was relatively hassle free, I managed to get through immigration with no problem and we had not lost any baggage! We needed to repack as we had a drastically reduced allowance for the connecting flight to Mekele later in the day – a new holdall priced at 50Birr (£2.80) did the trick. Tommy and I were taken to the CAFOD/Trocaire office in Addis were we met all the staff there who were fantastically friendly and helpful. We had a freshen up, coffee
(very strong) and a chance to check email.

Addis was not as modern and westernised as I thought it may have been. There was so much to take in as we were driven through the city but it struck me the number of people making a living by selling things along all the pavements and roadsides. It must be a nightmare walking along there – especially as a clear foreigner like me! We will have to
investigate the city further at the end of the summer when we will hopefully have two or three days there in a hotel.

We returned to the airport and visited the 'other', older terminal that caters for domestic flights. As the early morning Mekele flight had been cancelled, our plane had been upgraded to a much larger and comfortable model, which was a relief! We travelled with two CAFOD staff who were visiting Tigray which made everything easier and smoother – especially getting all our luggage on the plane without paying excess.

We were picked up from Mekele airport and transported to the Daughters of Charity compound in the town. The amount that the horns are used in the vehicles out here is truly unbelievable, it seems they need to be
hooted at every possible occasion – especially when overtaking! The town felt friendlier and more intimate than Addis. It is looking fairly 'green' at the moment as we are in the rainy season and it has rained most days for the last few weeks. As soon as you come off the main roads, you're glad you are in a 4X4 as they are little more than
unmade tracks. I managed to clock certain key shops on the way to the compound including the bank and internet café. Apparently it is a very safe place and I won't get hassle from the locals and crime is very low apart from the odd pickpocket if you are not careful!

There is only a small Catholic population, even though I was today told that 40% of the children in Mekele attend Catholic schools. This shows the influence and importance of people such as the Daughters of
Charity in the area and just how amazing work that they do is. Sister Medhin greeted us on arrival before we had lunch together and we heard of the many things that they do in the region. Tomorrow is a day of
rest, but I can't wait to get to the street children project on Saturday to meet the children and starting getting a real taste for the work that goes on here.