More Ethiopian Food and More on Ethiopian Culture

Ok, ok, it has officially been a week and a half since the baptism and I broke down and made some more Ethiopian food. I have been thinking about it for the last week and even though it was hotter than hubby's arm pits after a 12 mile run in our house last night (ok, that was gross, how about hotter than Dire Dawa at 7:00 in the morning?), I so missed it and kept thinking how lonely the injera in the freezer must be. I made some lentels and ground beef w'et. It wasn't quite as good as the doro w'et I made for the party, but its better than no Ethiopian food around the house.

That leads me into my next segment about Ethiopian adoption and fine line we all must walk. We are hearing recently, that the Hilton is becoming known as a baby house in Ethiopia. Because of the negative perception this is generating our agency is asking families not to stay there and to limit outings around town with children that are being adopted. I have heard of international adoption being termed a form of cultural destruction for the countries and cultures that process a large number of adoptions each year. Ideally, in a perfect world, children that could not be raised by their parents would find a home in their community. Unfortunately, this is not reality. As an adoptive parent, it is really a proactive effort and everyday thought process to not only learn a culture (or 2 in our case) that I am not familiar with, but to also teach that culture to our children. I have read about so many things in both the Mayan culture and Ethiopian culture that our children will not have an opportunity to experience because they no long live in their birth countries. In speaking with one of our Guatemalan friend, she said something that will stick with me, "We don't actively seek Guatemalan activities, because we are Guatemalan". And there in lies the conundrum, They ARE, we AREN'T. Is it a constant struggle to achieve the un-achievable?

E-Squared - Tales from the Backseat

On our way to the lake....after driving for 45 min's

E1 - Are we there yet

Mama - Nope, not yet

(a few minutes later)
Mama - Yah, I think I recognize this intersection, but I'm not sure I know how to get to the lake

E1 - Mama....that's not funny!

On Trying and Posting

I must admit to being a bit of a internet junkie when it comes to other people's blogs. I love reading stories from families living in Africa as missionaries or about the trials and tribulations of adoptive parenting and the journeys to become forever familes. Before hubby started this blog, I was excited, but really wasnt sure if I would post anything to it. When I read other blogs, and there is this raw honesty, I always wondered in the back on my mind what kind of flack they get from friend and family members, either making judgements on their parenting or offering unsolocited advice. I would imagine a blog is a different thing to different people, some just wanting to have an outlet, while others hoping someone else might share the common ground.

Now that I have started posting a bit more, I must admit that at times it almost seems like someone has rummaged through your bedroom and unlocked your diary. Many of the posts on other blogs I have read have been very emotional, and expressed deep feelings of hurt. So far, I have just tested the water. The feedback on one of my recent posts was something new to me. Unfortunately, most of the feedback really missed the point of the post and took a sharp left into "Some-Where-Else-Ville". Which has left me questioning if I should pull back and limit my posting to funny stories of the "Adventures of E-Squared", or if I should pony up and say "Bring it on".

Language and the Borne Identity

I overheard a conversation between 2 parents at E1's Spanish class this week about foreign language and the issues associated with beginning to teach a foreign language as late as 7th or 8th grade, or even high school which is typical in many American schools. Because of the way our brains develop, they are hard-wired to learning language as such a young age. Young children learn naturally language structure like learning how to walk. Young adults attempting to learn a foreign language must memorize grammar and sentence structure. I defiantly struggled in this regard while learning Amharic for our trip as you can read in my previous posts. I must admit though to aspiring to be the Jason Borne of international travel. To be able to be dropped in any country in the world and speak the language perfectly.

Language has always been important to me in our travels. In all of the countries we have visited, I always felt it was important to learn at least a few pleasantries and not travel assuming everyone will speak my language. Over time, I have noticed that we are received differently when we meet people and try our best to use their native language. I was particularly amazed by this in Ethiopia. There is a sort of kinship that evolves when someone speaks your language. As we waited for our 3:00 am ride to the airport from our Addis hotel, I stepped into a conversation between the desk clerk and a gentleman who was having trouble with his key. Having had a few drinks, he was having a heck of a time translating Swedish to English and the desk clerk who spoke Amharic was having a heck of a time understanding his broken English. The gentleman told me he was from Sweden and that his English wasn't very good. After being the go-between to help them understand each other I turned to him and said in Swedish "My Swedish isn't very good". I think his look of shock echoed my shock of the Swedish words coming out of my mouth (I really pulled that one out of the archives!). I would have never imagined I would be making use of my Swedish in Ethiopia. After he recovered from his shock (I think he was wondering how drunk he really was!) he complimented me on my Swedish. We spoke a bit about the areas we had traveled to in Sweden and then he was off to try a new room key.

While I am certainly no linguist and couldn't have spoken more than a few phrases to this gentleman, the power of language was very clear that night, and even though I am working with a 35 year old brain that is presently have enough trouble remembering the grocery list, I will keep learning, cause frankly, you never can tell when a few words of Quiche will come in handy! (Yes, I do know how to say, "come quickly, it's raining" in Quiche if you were curious!)

Why are we doing it?

Why is Ted running the marathon again. Wasn't the Chicago Marathon last year (and its brutally hot and humid weather) torture enough? Why does Jodie put up with Ted being gone (running) before the sun comes up some days, or coming to bed long past sun down (because he was running). What about those long weekend runs. What about spending time with E1 and E2?

Why? We are not just a family of 4. We are a World Vision family. Specifically a Team World Vision family. With all our hearts we believe in the wonderful work that World Vision does throughout the world. We are 1 of almost 1000 Team World Vision Chicago Marathon runners that have committed to help World Vision bring about the goal of a better world for Children, Mothers, Fathers, and Families in Africa in 2008.

Our family extends beyond the 4 people under our homes roof. We have a young boy we sponsor in Guatemala, an entire family we sponsor in Ghana, and another 7 year old boy we sponsor in Ethiopia. Having recently traveled to Ethiopia. We have seen first hand the awesome work that World Vision does in remote African communities like the Guraghe village in Ethiopia, where we met our sponsor child. We saw the school he attends, the fruit trees his father has learned to graft, and the water points to provide water for drinking and irrigation. We saw the hospitals, veterinary office, and the athletic field that World Vision built. But more importantly, we saw the joy and hope in the eyes of countless children and families during our visit.

Why am I running a marathon and why is my family behind me? Because our support makes a REAL difference. A difference we have seen first hand. Perhaps you'll join us and help to make the world better, one community at a time.

Won’t you help us to make that difference?

Peace

Prayer Request

We were deeply disturbed to get the news yesterday that our agency's care center in Ghana had been robbed and one of the house mothers assulted. Some of the children witnessed the assult. Everyone is very shaken by these events. The house mother now faces a potential divorce from her husband as that is the culture in Ghana. We ask for your prayers of healing for the children and the house mothers in this time of need. God Bless you.

So Many Sterotypes wrapped up into ONE Comment

I have been contemplating posting about my first "official" disturbing experience as the white mother of a black child for a few days, but when I think about what exactly happened that night, I am still perplexed by how a few simple words spoken by a stranger can be so heavily laden with stereotypes. After reading Theola Labbe-DeBose's article in the Washington Post (link in www.antiracistparent.com) and how after being on an alumni panel wearing the Princeton University colors one of the other panelist asked her what school she went to, she writes about the failure to be accepted and compares the recent New Yorker cover of the Obamas which echos this failure.

I was approached by a stranger at a city festival. Hubby and brother E had just headed back to the hot dog stand and I was playing on a blanket with E2 and dancing to the music. After a comment about how beautiful E2 was (yes, I know, he really is) the next thing she said was "Are you a single mother?" Frankly, I have never been asked that in my life. In all the places I have taken E1 to....NEVER. And I would venture a guess that most other parents have never been asked that either. No matter how you slice it, the comment is extremely offensive. Was her presumption that a white woman with a black child means the mother slept around or the black father didn't take responsibility for the child they created? The failure on her part was that she never considered that we might be a family consisting of a mother, a father and 2 lovely boys, black, white or other color. Her comment was formed by her preconceived notion of how a white woman would have a black child.

At this point, you are probably wondering how I responded. Did I punch her in the nose? Ignore it or stand up and be the antiracist parent I claim to be? Well, on many levels, I am disappointed with my response. I basically said "No, hubby and brother went to get a hot dog". Frankly, this was a bit of a cop out. In retrospect, a better response would have been "Why do you ask?" to get to the root of her perceptions and combat those perceptions with facts. In one of my books, racism is compared to a moving sidewalk, even if you are just standing still, you are still moving towards it. You need to actively walk against it. In this case, I was standing still and for that, I am disappointed in myself.

So Much Injera, So Little We't

I am coining a new phrase this week, it's kind of a glass half empty phrase, but describes how I am feeling looking at that pile of beautiful injera in my kitchen then glancing over to the licked clean bowls that previously held the doro we't, fish we't and red lentils. I am so exicted to have shared my Ethiopian dishes will so many of our friends, but after 2 straight days of cooking, I can't even force myself to pick up a knife and start chopping more onions. So the beautiful injera is sent packing to the freezer to await my next culinary creation. I must say, I am far happier with the dishes and how they turned out this time then my first go around. I think the home made spiced butter was the key. I have a book full of recipies, so I will have to figure out what I would like to try next. Maybe Lamb Tibs, I have never made that before.

I am sure hubby will post all the wonderful details of E2's baptism yesterday and the open house that followed. We are so blessed to have some many friends and family members that will support us in raising our boys in a God filled home. Both of our little guys had a blast yesterday, they were soaking up all the attention they were getting from everyone at the open house and hit the hay last night, exhausted!!!! Well, truth be told, we all hit the hay last night pretty exhausted. What a Blessed Day!

Today's Reading

Reading of the day...

Matthew 11:28-30
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.

Peace...

You Can't Take it With You

Hubby always keeps me on my toes and never ceases to surprise me with something that he utters in passing that might just bounce out the window without a second look if you aren't paying attention. It has been a bit of a joke in our house since returning from Ethiopia as to where my wedding ring went, if I even know where it is and when I might be putting it back on. I don't really wear jewelry, anyone who knows me, knows that the few costume earrings I own have never seen the light of day. I do have a few rings that I picked up in markets all over the world. I enjoy them because they remind me of the places and people we have met, unfortunately, the quality on many of them would not withstand a day to day wearing.

When we have traveled, I typically wear only the band we found at a little tourist shop in Scotland on my ring finger. The band is my "second" of three engagement rings (long story for another day about a pool, a missing stone, and a disgusting bathmat). Originally, I took my wedding ring off at the recommendation of others to prevent the "banditos" and other unsavory characters that lurk around every corner in the places we have travel from stealing it. Now that we have been a few places, and saw for ourselves that there is a greater chance of getting robbed in Chicago than in most of the places we have traveled, I began leaving it at home for another reason. Frankly, I was embarrassed by it. The places we have traveled have really opened our eyes to how much we really have and how little thought we give to dropping several grand on a single piece of jewelry. Or several more grand on a kitchen remodel.

So the shocker the other day was when hubby said something like, "I don't know why they don't just let people rent the engagement ring. That way, you could show it off to your friends, get the pic in your wedding album, but then after the wedding, trade it in for a simple band", In my case, the flashy diamond thing is in the past (and with my left-handedness, it was always a huge problem keeping it flashy at all) and I am now trying to figure out how to get all that baby food out of all the little prongs !!!

I have some thoughts on the matter that I am waiting to hit hubby with at the right moment given that our 10 year anniversary is less than 1 year away. After a couple Gallos (aka Famosas) we will see if his reaction is "Are you Crazy?" or not!