Ethiopian Update #3

This update is written by the Damn Husband
January 6, Tuesday
It is fairly early in the evening, but it has been a most eventful day and an emotionally draining one - especially for Donna, so she is asleep next to our beautiful baby boy Temesgen and I am writing the daily update tonight. The day started out like day two, with an omelet cooked in clarified Ethiopian butter (like Indian ghee). This gives it a tan color and a ‘cooked too fast’ texture. There are so few of the ostensible fillings that it is more like a plain omelet with a couple of small
cheese and mushroom surprises during the eating, but we try not to be the ‘Ugly Americans’ and avoid complaining about not having enough filling in a country where many in the population would be thrilled to eat what we have available to us. We wash our omelets down with bottled water and coffee, which is the best coffee we’ve had in our lives, strong and fresh and very awakening.
One of our fellow Hope adopters, the general practice physician from near Houston we’ve been so happy to have with us - as he has assuaged our many fears of scabies and other dire illnesses in Temesgen - woke in the throes of violent gastro-intestinal distress and looked very unprepared for the act of standing let alone being aware enough for his and our appointments at the embassy. He had been eating copious quantities of the minted raw beef and other Ethiopian delicacies and assured us that, since one of his parents were Syrian and they had their own raw beef dish which he had eaten on many occasions, that he wouldn’t have a problem. Of course it may have just been that he accidentally wet his toothbrush out of habit in the city water supply like Donna did last night. Anyway, for him this was a major issue, but we were both feeling ok and our adventures were only just beginning.

Adventure #1 Where are our babies?
We went with Dawit our assigned driver to the orphanage as we had done during day one and day two but when we arrived we found the other Hopesters in a state of confusion, having just learned that all of our children had been moved over night to a new orphanage� for the babies. Donna and the rest were pretty much panicked at this point
since we had embassy dates in under an hour and that we had no idea that the children were going to be moved and no idea where they were. I was a less panicked, but only because of a side conversation I had had after our paperwork meeting on Monday in which the manager of the orphanage mentioned to me that he was heading off to make sure the new orphanage nearby was ready to be opened. While the others were commiserating about the lack of communication and the drivers were solidifying directions to the new orphanage (which fortunately was en route to the embassy) I, in my much less panicked state, overheard a conversation in Amharic between the orphanage nurse and our driver and I understood only one word: Yaebsira�. My curiosity peaked, and while the others continued in there conversation about the whereabouts of our children, my eyes followed our driver until he disappeared behind the multitude of drying sheets suspended from the criss-crossing clotheslines in the driveway. My eyes briefly fell on a beautiful round faced Ethiopian woman who was braiding hair from a chair in the far corner of the driveway. Shortly thereafter from behind the sheets came our driver and our daughter-to-be in a bright yellow T-shirt and with beautifully braided hair. Donna had not even begun to notice what had now become clear in my mind, so I placed my hand on her back and said “Donna it’s Yaebsira, right there, thus starting:

Adventure #2
Being totally unprepared to meet one’s future daughter and her mother while being already in the midst of another adventure: Donna said “What?!?” and then caught sight of the diminutive little girl from our photographs (definitely 4 years old) who separated from our driver and walked over to the woman braiding hair in the corner of
the driveway. Donna was very much shocked and Dawit returned to her saying “this is Yaebsira and her mother.� Now we were not expecting to see Yaebsira until the afternoon and even then were not expecting to see her at Hope at all but rather at the larger orphanage where most of the children are first processed. More lack of communication in a process rife with it. Donna was definitely not mentally prepared for this as she had been exhausted the night before and had gone to sleep instead of preparing questions for her mother like she had wanted to. While we stared from
halfway across the driveway, little Yaebsira walked over to Donna and said in a small sweet voice, in English “My name is Yaebsira (pronounced YOB-sih-rah) and I’m 4 years old and you are my mother”. Of course, Donna totally crashed into tears as she hugged and kissed her, but we were running up against our appointments and had to get on the road. We hurriedly walked over to Yaebsira’s mother with Dawit in tow and with him translating, came to understand that she would still be there when we got back. So with Donna’s mind reeling from having to leave in the midst of all of this, we rushed to the new orphanage a couple miles away and took a quick run into the bathroom after we located him. The caretakers (seemingly unknowing that he even had an embassy appointment) rushed around getting him ready. Then we traveled as rapidly as one can while avoiding the odd donkey and many randomly veering taxicabs and the teeming hordes of pedestrians to the embassy and university section of Addis, reached the embassy, left the drivers across the road and on a side street and proceeded into the first security structure on the perimeter of the embassy. Within moments after entering that building we experienced the short, but highly intense:

Adventure #3
“Michael,¦ my passport and my money – they’re gone!!!”
Now this was bad. The passport was REQUIRED to even get into the compound. We could not apply for Temesgen’s visa without both of us inside the compound. Donna had gone to the bathroom back at the orphanage and drove here to this point. Only two options: it was back at the orphanage, or- it had fallen off in the car. If it was the first, we were in deep doo-doo as the embassy was only open for a half day because of the Ethiopian Orthodox Christmas tomorrow and had no time to recover. We would have to stay for the weekend and then
some and rearrange all of our travel plans again. If it was in the car we would be ok. I dashed away from the embassy across the main road. This was probably not a smart thing to do what with Israel attacking Gaza and with embassies on alert in countries with sizable Muslim populations. (As I write this the Muslim call to prayer is echoing from the nearby mosque as if to punctuate this point.) Apparently the guards on the wall decided not to shoot me because I was lily white and running in the opposite direction, so I made it to the other side to find our drivers on the side- gone!
I cannot write what I said at this point, but I walked at a more reasonable pace back to the embassy walls and found Donna again and told her that the drivers were gone. Now we were both panicked. But before we could totally collapse in despair, Donna discovered a lumpy structure way up her torso just under her bra. Apparently, in the
process of attaching Temesgen to herself, the money belt had ridden all the way up under him and she hadn’t noticed it alongside all the new sensations of having a little boy riding her up front. WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After that things went well. After a short wait we were called up to a window where an embassy official asked us a couple questions about Temesgen’s case to see if it matched the official records. And then he said “His visa will be ready Friday. Congratulations” and we were done.

Things got emotional for Donna after this as we met with Yaebsira’s mother to get as much information as we could. For both of the children, our bottom line is that, until they are old enough to understand and be at peace with their own birth stories, they will remain private unless and until they choose to reveal them. Please don’t ask us for any more details than we offer and you will not be offended when we refuse to tell more. This is something our social worker told us was standard practice and is also something that we already believe in.
Donna watched carefully while Selamawit (Yaebsira’s mother) braided her hair. She is really good at this and this will take some serious practice for Donna and a PHd’s worth of study and finger exercises for me. We did find out that Yaebsira likes spaghetti and likes eggs (Mikaela will be thrilled!)
After hanging out for a while with Temesgen at the orphanage and taking many photos of Yaebsira with her mother, we headed home, bought some baby cereal and food and let Dawit go home for the holiday. Tomorrow the sheep will be ‘gone’ and many children will have full bellies. After petting the creature, I’m not sure I will try it and
Donna doesn’t like mutton at all so it looks like hotel meals for us before and after the Christmas party at Hope.

Enough of my epic for now. Thanks for keeping us in your thoughts and
prayers. We love you all.

Mike