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.
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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.
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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…
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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.
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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…
1 comment:
Hi Andy,
thanks for the wonderful note and beautiful pictures Ashenda is my mother favourite dance from her child hood.
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