Owlhavens in Ethiopia: Tuesday (later)

As our new 11-year-old carried her 2-year-old sister proudly off to find our other new daughter, I was overjoyed to see she seemed so glad to have a little sister. We soon arrived at the right classroom, and upon our older daughter’s call, out came our other daughter. She was even tinier– 58 lbs at age 9, fitting perfectly into size 7 slim clothing.

She came for a hug with a shy but radiant smile, and curved her body responsively into mine at my tearful hug. Then she moved around to greet our 5 and 2 year olds joyfully, and then get a hug from dad. Her smile shone, and as we walked off to see their bedrooms, I walked between them to be touching them both. It was surreal to be walking between them instead of looking at pictures from thousands of miles away.

The girls shared rooms, not with each other, but rather with girls in their own classes. Each room accomodated 7 or 8 girls, and all were tidy, with beds made and clothing neatly tucked into individual cubbies. Our younger daughter had an Amharic New Testament on her pillow, which delighted me. The girls grabbed their welcome bags and headed off towards the gates at Layla, hugging workers and friends along the way. We had been told that it was bst to make this first stay at Layla brief, since children would be eager to begin their new life. The girls seemed to understand this as the normal routine, but our older daughter especially seemed very enmeshed in life at Layla, and had many people to hug as we made our way out.

Finally we were in the car and driving back to the guesthouse, and as we drove, I tried to figure out the next thing. It seemed they didn’t know very much English, and we certainly didn’t know enough Amharic to be much use. I wished I’d spent more time learning. And yet each time I made eye contact with this precious girls, they flashed me radiant smiles. In my gut I had the feeling we would be okay.

Back at the guesthouse, we brought the girls upstairs to show them where we would be staying this week. We’d been assigned two adjoining rooms, one with a king sized bed and a private bathroom, and the other a small room with a bunk bed. I pulled out the clothing I’d packed for the girls, and dug for the things I knew were on the smaller end of the sizes.

Our 11 year old fit into 10 slims quite nicely, and luckily I had packed several 7’s for the younger girl. The shoes I’d gotten– Croc-style shoes in size 4-5 and size 2-3– swam on their feet. The older girl handed her sister the Layla-house-issued tennis shoes, and claimed a pair of blue flip-flops I’d brought that fortunately fit her well.

We went out so they could change, and once they were dressed, they came into oour room with shy smiles. It was lovely to see some of the clothes I’d chosen actually on the girls. Our older daughter brought her welcome bag album with her, and sat down on the bed to go over it with us. She named off every family member, and then showed us the pictures of friends she’d tucked into the album herself, telling us whether or not they had families yet, and if so, which state they would be going to. We strained to understand her, but she did a good job communicating with the amount of English she had.

After a little while we all headed out to the family room area to play Uno. It seemed they’d played at Layla before, and along with the game, they gave us a lesson in Amharic counting. Soon the guest house cook brought us up some lunch– vegetable soup and rolls — and we had our first meal together. These first tentative hours together were going well.

After lunch the two year old was melting down, and so I brought her to our room for a nap, while John brought the girls out to the courtyard area to play with some beach balls we’d brought. As I lay with the toddler to coax her to sleep, I heard happy thumping and laughter. My husband was just dynamite with them, humorous and affectionate and sensitive to their feelings. It was lovely to see.

That evening we ate dinner at a nearby restaurant, the Merry Fam. I’d eaten there on previous trips and knew the food was good. I wasn’t sure what to order as far as portions, and we ended up getting tons of food: injera, and tibs and shiro and firfir. the girls ate well, and initiated us in the Ethiopia rite of gursha, where you hand-feed your dining companions choice bits of the meal. It can’t say the custom was to my liking– the bites that they tucked into my mouth seemed enormous. But the sentiment was precious, and I marveled at the sweetness — and the bravery — of these girls.

Our five year old managed to guzzle an entire Coke during the first 5 minutes of the meal, and so half way through she was desperate for a bathroom. I remembered that the bathroom at the Merry Fam was not good, and was tempted to walk her to the guesthouse for the bathroom. But I didn’t want to miss out on time with the other girls, so I braved the Merry Fam bathroom.

It was the worst bathroom I’d even seen in my life. Far worse than the most neglected Texaco I’d seen. The door to the bathroom was 10 feet from the kitchen stove. The toilet was a true ’squatty potty’, a ceramic basin set in the floor over which a person was expected to somehow hover. The ceramic, originally white, showed evidence of every encounter with humans it had ever had. Appalled, I hissed at my 5 year old to touch nothing. I suspended her over the potty, trying not to touch anything myself. Except of course I had to touch the doorknob afterwards.

Once back at the table I was less enthused about the (admittedly delicious) food, and even less thrilled at my new daughters’ further gursha offerings. I prayed fervently that this first meal would not be the start of a trip-long bout with illness.

Related links
First Meetings
Owlhavens in Ethiopia: Sunday and MondayOwlhavens in Ethiopia: Tuesday

You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.