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Arrival From Djibouti

       “I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:12,13

I write this in green ink. Although it is the middle of July, there is a sense of Christmas in the air. For one, the skies are gray and there is a humid chill in the air. Though not cold enough to snow, there has been a steady on and off rain since last night and it is a finger-numbing 58 degrees Fahrenheit.

We are in the midst of our 3rd long rainy season in Ethiopia. I say long in that it can last for 4 months, from June to October. And it is rainy – tending to rain at least once a day, if not more. Sometimes we get hail.

Also, it is a bit like Christmas in that there is also a sense of celebration in the air. We have now been in Ethiopia for 2 years now! “We walk by faith, and not by sight”. We have just returned from a long 58 ½ hours round trip train ride to Djibouti on July 15th and now have new 6-month Ethiopian visas!!

Though the organization which invited us here attempted to defraud us, they failed by God’s grace. When they then attempted to railroad us out of the country within 4 months of our arrival in their anger, they failed once again. Without any organizational support, God has shown Himself to be “ABLE to do exceeding abundantly ABOVE all that we ask or think, according to the POWER that worketh in us, Unto Him glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.” (Ephesians 3:20,21)

God is superlative. He has taught me “how to be abased” and “how to abound” and that “He is ABLE”! Therefore, “I can do all things through Christ.” We have gone through thick and thin, confronting obstacles and hardships, reaching out to help the poor, and teaching others. We have survived 2 years in Ethiopia – over 3 years now total in 4 African countries. It is quite an accomplishment. To God be the glory!!! We rejoice. There’s a sense of Christmas in the air.

Even shortly before the Djibouti trip, I foolishly looked sideways while jogging and severely sprained my right ankle, as the ground does not tend to be even. The ankle bent severely and I thought I heard something “snap.” I prayed for healing and did not tell Evelyn until we were well into the trip.

The trip was hard enough. The train is quite old. Originally we were told that the trip or first leg from Addis Ababa to Dire Dawa was about 10 hours, which the train people later adjusted to between 13 and 15 hours. It took us about 19 hours. We tried our best to sleep on the train. The train whistled and stopped along the way. People talked and smoked. A door flapped open and close. Evelyn changed seats. At times the rails would squeak. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason as to why the train would make delayed stops at some places. Customs was a particular ordeal, having to make stops at both sides of the border. Armed security soldiers indicated the threat of danger. We traveled from the rainy, chilly air thousands of feet above sea level right down to the dry, scorched, sweltering foot of the sea, sleep deprived, hungry, uncomfortable, and thirsty. Had Human Rights Watch been aboard, they would probably qualify the trip as human rights abuse, if not torture. Yet this goes on all the time. Prisoners at Guantanamo Bay appear to get more attention and sympathy than the poor. The poor-targeted by terrorists and abusive people, heavily forgotten by the elite. On all 4-train trips, we appeared to be the only Westerners on board. Maybe the trip is too difficult for even backpackers. What the Lord does is truly remarkable – taking us from all (or predominantly) African-American or African churches in Chicago to parts of Africa itself, which are totally absent of any European or Puerto Rican heritage, even to the very town we live in. It is mind-boggling how He continually guides us to places that are completely off of most peoples’ maps – even though right under their noses.

Thus we end up in places that often do not receive a lot of fanfare. But also, in that way I perceive we get closer to the real story. Nothing is staged. Nobody on the train expected us!

When not traveling at night I tried to take in the sights and sounds along the path of the train: the shanty houses that lined the tracks heading out of Addis, along with small “businesses” and women spreading their produce out on plastic sacks or sheets; the garbage along the tracks and people going to the bathroom; parallel tracks long neglected and partially covered with vegetation, soil, building material and even boulders; and children jumping, smiling, and waving all along the way.  Some towns appeared to have a “train economy” with the train delivering supplies for the stores and taking traders back and forth. Even in the middle of the night, people, like vendors, appeared to wait for the train to sell tea, soda pop, fruits, and even meat either to passengers outside the train’s windows or on board.

As the train moved east, the vegetation and terrain changed. The tall eucalyptus trees of the Addis environs gave way to shorter, scrubby trees, and scrubby bush and cactus. At times trees disappeared to the horizon or beyond. Rolling hills gave way to remarkably flat expanses of arid, sandy or gravelly stretches of land almost devoid of vegetation. I thought what great playing fields. Camels romped, but animals were few. A few rabbits or jack rabbits. A few animals that looked liked miniature antelopes. A few that looked like antelopes. And a couple of wild boars. Of course there was the ubiquitous donkey – which probably should be a symbol of Ethiopia they are used so much – as well as some small herds of goats, sheep, and cattle. At some points the terrain became quite rocky, as though someone had tossed small boulders, like marbles, across the land. Over all, there were just enormous amounts of scarcely- inhabited or uninhabited land that stretched as far as the eye could see. One wondered how small towns or villages could survive in such a wilderness except for the train and a well. Only saw a few rivers with just some little water in them, and some “water holes”. Saw quite a few of what appeared to be dry riverbeds. Wondered about whether anyone ministered to these people so far and so remote in the wilderness. School and universities in neighboring towns and cities are so important because that is where the villages will send their children who show promise. I met one such student who was working along the tracks on his vacation. In such a dry land the people could use some “living water”.

One major lesson in our travels throughout Africa is that there is a lot going on below the surface. From the outside one mainly discerns only the outside, or the appearance, and not the real substance – or the issues actually going on on the inside. It is wholly necessary to understand and discern the issues and what is going on IN a community to effectively deal with it. An issue neglected will become a biting problem. We’d have a hard time dealing with witchcraft in Burayu Mariam if we didn’t know about it and effectively pray about it.

Even on the train to Djibouti I was talking to an Ethiopian man who has a pretty good job. We were talking about the problems of Ethiopia, including the economy and low wages. And he blurted out at one point, “You know where all the problems come from? They come from all the fighting. Two people fight. Two organizations fight. Two communities fight. Two ethnic groups fight. Two countries fight.” Yes, he said a mouthful. One of the major problems in Africa are all the rivalries, tensions, conflicts, and wars across the continent, which continually destroy families, communities, and set countries back on a horrible scale. During the recent Ethiopian-Eritrea border war over a dusty town, which is barely arable, about 70,000 lives were lost. Children lost their dads, and women were raped by their own soldiers in displaced persons camps. Ethiopia, one of the poorest countries in the world, was spending about $1 million dollars a day on the war. A man told me he saw precious cargo of Ethiopia’s valuable coffee being loaded onto ships (I think during the conflict-riddled days of the despotic Derg regime) to pay for Soviet armaments, including tanks that did not work very well. What a shame. What a waste of one’s precious resources to further destroy one’s own country!

So while the G8 and others talk of aid to Africa, who is talking about all the human rights abuses, discrimination, witchcraft, ethnic tension and “racism”, etc., in Africa which continue to accelerate Africa on a downward spiral???? So ironically, I think one of the performers at the Live 8 concert, or someone behind the microphone, said that anyone who is cynical about foreign aid is “stupid”. This person did not even know that he was insulting the very people he is purporting to help! So often, those behind the propaganda, you will notice, hide behind hype and insults. Instead of reasoned, informed dialogue they utilize inflamed rhetoric. What an insult to the real needs of the African people…

Thus, we are happy that God uses us to reach out to people, person-to-person, to help meet their needs. We need to understand them individually and work with them to long term solutions, as 1 Corinthians 13, Philippians 2:4, Isaiah 58 and James 2 indicate. We are blessed. As mentioned earlier, sometimes this involves endurance.

The train trip to Djibouti in order for us to get a new Visa to continue in Ethiopia was a test of endurance. It was really hard for Evelyn. When we got to Dire Dawa and found out that the train to Djibouti had already left, we had to shift gears. We checked out a possible bus leg to Djibouti, then checked into a budget hotel. Freshening up would have been nice after a 19-hour train ride. But there was no water in the hotel!  Also could have used a good meal. The hotel restaurant had spaghetti.  After 2 nights we were once again on a rain to Djibouti. We arrived at about 7 p.m.  By a Godsend a man indicated to me about the necessity of bottled water for the trip, just before we left. Djibouti is sweltering at this time of year. One day while there a man told me that the previous day’s high was 430 c and the low 330 c. I calculate that to be 109.40 F and 91.40 F respectively!  Even with a ceiling fan going at night one is sweating? Hard to eat and hard to keep oneself hydrated. Now Evelyn is really not feeling well. Again, by God’s grace we find a budget hotel (the name of the hotel we had obtained from the Djibouti Embassy in Addis is not even in business anymore!). We look for soup for Evelyn. We find a pizzeria. Having been a French colony for 99 years, Djibouti is a little like Paris compared to Ethiopia. The soup costs over $8. I think. The prices of Djibouti are also like Paris compared to Ethiopia!

In Dire Dawa we found a hotel, Gereny Hotel, in the Ashoa area for 55 Birr a night – or about $6.40 a night. In Djibouti we found a hotel – Banadir or something - for 5,000 Djibouti franc a night, or about $28.57 a night. It was a street lined with small shops. Many of the things in Djibouti – being a port - are imported. Even fresh produce is shipped in once a week by cargo train from Ethiopia. We found the vendors very aggressive – a couple would even follow us. Maybe the high cost of living and all the competition put an edge on their aggessivity. But even their aggression succumbed to the scorching heat. Shops would begin to close at noon to 12:30 p.m. They would not re-open until 4 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. Water became room temperature quite quickly, and quite difficult to drink. People would pop ice into our drinks, and we would have to pop the ice right back out as we were told that the water was not good. We were also told that it was dangerous to swim near the shore since raw sewerage is pumped into the water. I still went into the water to cool down, just not to swim. Again, we appeared to be the only Westerner on the beach. Even a Djiboutian in Dire Dawa had told me that we probably would not want to go to the “Somali beach”. Most people in Djibouti have Ethiopian and/or Somali backgrounds. They speak French and Somali. Not much we could do to communicate. So occasionally I threw in some Oromifa or Amharic!! Then maybe I’d either get a stunned look or a puzzled look depending on whether the people understood it or not! They had some great imported watermelon, which we really relished. Bananas almost had to be eaten the same day or they would tend to get warm and soft. 200 grams of Philadelphia cream cheese cost 990 francs or about $5.50 at the supermarket! We just kind of looked at the food, realizing we couldn’t buy a lot of it. We did get some bottled water, pork pate for Evelyn, “flan” which I think was on sale, a loaf of bread, and a can of apple sauce which was about $2 - the same for a loaf of bread which became soggy in the heat.

I’ve jogged in the Ethiopian highlands – on a crippling knee before God miraculously healed it last year. So, temperature soaring into the 100’s, shops closing, traffic getting lighter, sprained ankle – sounds like a good time to go jogging! What fun! It was really nice on the beach because I could get more “air” and cool off in the water.

Our stay ended in Djibouti by us arising at about 2 a. m. to catch a 4 a. m. train. It was difficult to sleep anyway, as we would turn during the night to find a piece of bed sheet that was not soaked with sweat.

Evelyn did not look forward to the train trip – but that is history now. God is to be exalted. Whether because of the sleep deprivation, lack of food, and/or the altitude, we were both exhausted and light-headed when we completed the last leg of our epic 58 ½ hour train trip. We got a meal, bought a few things, and lugged our luggage to advise the mother of Maaza who had been watching the house and Blondie during the trip of our arrival so that Maaza would not have to come that evening. Little did we know that Maaza was already at our house and that her mom would call to advise her. When we arrived in Burayu Mariam, we were shocked to find Maaza, her sister, and Genet waiting for us on the street! They helped carry our luggage. When we got home we found out that Maaza had done much more than we had asked of her – washing the clothes, my muddy jogging shoes and boots, and even the flowerpots. Genet had embroidered a piece of cloth to welcome us. And Maaza had decorated the house – complete with a welcoming message, Christmas lights and Christmas wreath on the door!!! Yes, it’s a little bit like Christmas. To top it off, she had baked some lasagna before heading off for class that day and had some delicious cinnamon buns that she had baked the other day! Such a wonderful surprise! It was a hard, arduous trip – but God is so good and His blessing far exceeds whatever sacrifices we go through. May He be praised.

Paul

 Looking from train station - (Legahar) down Churchill Rd (dips) all the way to the municipality of Addis Ababa at the end. Do you see it? July 6, 2005

 

 On the way to the train station - Legahar, Addis Ababa

 

Train station to Dire Dawa and Djibouti 

  Boarding on train

 

Evelyn on the very old train. Lo' behold we didn't know what to expect from this ride. 

1st leg of train trip from Addis Ababa to Djibouti scene

 More scene

   Many train stops along train route - outside from our windows many vendors sells teas, soda pop, water, fruits, and even meats. 

 More scene 

  As we are moving east, the land get more barren - vegetation & scrubby trees, bushes and cactus.  Along this long ride, I got tired of looking, and finally after many hours, we approach villages in the desert ....

 

 One of few village ...

 

 Village homes - on the way to Dire Dawa to Djibouti

  

By the time, we got to Dire Dawa train station, we found out the train to Djibouti had already left. So we had to change plan. We board on blue taxi to take us to hotel, Gerery Hotel in Ashoa area.    

  Ashoa market area  - close to the hotel - to buy foods.

Dire Dawa countryside

 

   Dire Dawa town areas.

  

After two nights, we head to Dire Dawa train station 

 Can you find Paul in this crowd as we had waited to board on the train to Djibouti from Dire Dawa train station?

More village at the desert.

Djibouti!! After arriving about 7 pm evening, it was difficult getting some sleep without sweating through the 1st night... By morning, from our windows, Paul took picture of small shops which lines street, as we learn they open after 4 pm. 

Tourism office draped with Djibouti flag

 Market areas

 Market on street

On the street from the market area.   

 

Taken from chicken rotisserie restaurant  

Old building in Djibouti - probably from French colonial days. Portion of roof is missing on the building which also has some major cracks.  King Menelik leased land called Djibouti to French for 99 years and the French built the railroad to Addis for Ethiopia. Then Djibouti became independent.  

 

Seaside

 Trotting on the beach  July 11, 2005

  

Maaza & her sister  – complete with a welcoming message. Home Sweet Home.