የካቲት

(February)

What's been going on this month in the missions? Here it is in a nutshell!

We had been waiting with Asho for so long for her baby to be born. She was well over due and we had gone a few times to the hospital thinking the day had come, only to be turned away at the false alarm. Finally, the day was here and we were told that she was a few centimeters dilated and would be admitted to the hospital. We grabbed our bags, head coverings, and a bottle of water, and ran out to the car to be dropped off and stay the rest of the day with her. We rubbed her back, gave her water, and every so often said a few words in Amharic, like “tinish”—meaning little, making reference to the fact that at this point there’s only a little time left. We resorted to smiles and hand gestures for most of our dialogue. But what mattered was that we were there with her and she was happy to not be alone. When she went into labor and the intensity was high, she started to yell out all the names under heaven. I was happy that as she yanked my arm and side back and forth, she managed to call out my name a few times: “Rosa!” Janil almost fainted but she managed to get herself back in the room in time to see the little head begin to peer out.

Watching a baby be born isn’t the most ascetically beautiful thing I’ve seen in this world. But it’s something I won’t ever forget! I got to be present at my first child birth all the way in Ethiopia. Baby Daniel is a precious sight to behold. So much joy filled this day and the days up to now when we see mother and baby in arms and remember the long, arduous process to get to this moment. You learn so much about what it means to be human and to live in this world. Good things are worth the pain and sacrifice.

A week or so after this we met Hindis in the hospital for the first time. She had TB Meningitis and was dying. She was so thin and frail. She had no idea of her surroundings. Sr. Joachim brought us in and taught us how to bathe her. After learning the process, we returned back almost every day for two weeks to bathe her, change her into fresh clean clothes, and take back the dirty ones to wash. We sweat like teens in the height of puberty in that hospital room as we washed her, but it was a profound experience. Those weeks all I could call to mind were the words of Jesus,

“What you did to the least of these, you did to me… I was sick and you visited me…I was naked and you clothed me…”

Hindis was an occasion of grace and the Father’s mercy, an opportunity to respond to the thirst of Jesus. As the days passed, she began to grow stronger and soon enough she recognized our faces. One afternoon when Sister went to see her, she placed her hand on Sister’s face and whispered, “my friend” in her language. We were so happy to hear that. Those two weeks, most of our adoration time was spent with Jesus in the hospital, not the chapel. I am reminded of Pope Francis who says,

“The thing the church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity. I see the church as a field hospital after battle.”

It’s been a tremendous experience to be the Church in the actual hospital, near the wounded; trying to heal those wounds through the ministry of presence and nearness…

We also had the first official meeting our fishing club. Our spontaneous fishing trip to the river in our backyard was a fun adventure amidst the day to day work here. Usually infested with crocodiles, we climbed down to the bank very carefully and we had a very clear code word if anyone saw anything that seemed to be a crocodile…”CROCODILE!!!” I still need a few more fishing trips before I can successfully cast the fishing rod into the water (and not into the ground, haha) but I hope to learn on our next outing.

On Ash Wednesday we had Stations of the Cross outside at sunset. It was a beautiful sight. The chapel was packed for evening Mass that day. Even though I was hot, hungry, and half asleep, I managed to get one good prayer in there as I was especially grateful for the young people who were present. Among them we had a DJ and dancer, a lab technician, an alcoholic, some workers for a Catholic aid group, a veterinarian, an Ethiotelecom guy, and some students. The Church is so beautiful in its raw humanity and in the array of people we can find together in one place. I was full of gratitude and I still am as I look forward to growing in friendship with each of them.

Last thing I’ll share with you is my joy and Cross every morning. I love being with the children in our program. This is true, minus the moments when they are all in a foul mood and no one wants to put their pants up after potty time, or they decide to run around without their “suri” (pants), or they all begin crying and having tantrums at the same time. I also don’t enjoy trying to get the rice out of their mouth when they’ve figured out how to open the music shakers we made for them or when I find them chewing blue sticky tac as gum. But besides all that, as with children anywhere, my heart is lit up with joy when they laugh, smile, and play. It’s really a gift to be able to see them grow. We had some fun a few weeks ago teaching them how to dance Merengue. (You can’t have two Dominicans in one place for too long before this happens). We've also taken them for a few visits to see our momma goat and her kid. The first day we visited, three of the children started sobbing and refused to go near the goat. That lasted only a few minutes until finally Zetat got close and then the others followed. They had lots of fun and so did we! We also managed to sit them down for a picture.