Hello all,


Sorry, my update is a bit late but hey it's been a rough few weeks so I know you'll all understand.

I'd like to answer some of the questions you all have about the length of time I will be here and how you can make donations if you would like.

I will be in Ethiopia until October 5th or so, give or take a few days. My visa expires on October 10th, so I must be out of the country by that time. I will have to add additional pages to my passport so I can be admitted into the U.S. upon arrival as my passport is now at its stamp and visa limit. :)

I will be returning home to stay, though I hope to visit the country as often as I can as it truly is beautiful as are its children. Upon my arrival home, I'm hoping that life isn't too difficult to acclimate to, though I know I will have my frustrations about the fast pace, the distance from home to work preventing me from walking to work every morning, everyday living, and most importantly I will be a bit distraught about not being able to visit the children at Kechene. So if anyone needs a babysitter, please just let me know because I'll probably be more than happy to oblige the chaos :)

Regarding donations. Right now you are more than welcome to send donations to my dad, yes dad, I've volunteered you :) He can place the money in my bank account and it can be used to help projects at Kechene Children's Home. I wish there were a better way than putting it into my personal bank account, but I don't have another option, I apologize. However, if anyone wants receipts for their donations I can accommodate the request, no problem.

Kechene is disparate for money for:
*diapers (never have enough)
*fruit for the children (it is only brought by me)
*milk (only infants and toddlers have access)
*meat (only received twice per year and the children are in need for it as they do not have fat in their diets)
*walkers (to get the infants out of their cribs)
*mobiles (so the infants have something to look at since they are in their cribs all day except when I'm there)
*shoes for toddlers-10 years of age
and much much much much much much more.


If you would like to know my dad's address, please take the time to just e-mail me at bettinakeppers@hotmail.com and I will forward it to you.

Regarding making donations after my departure, I am working on an option with an agency that works with Kechene to see if they would accept the donations and forward them onto the Home as it is the safest way to secure that the money will get to where it needs to go.

Additionally, there are many many great programs assisting orphaned children in the country that need sponsors for specific children or projects. They are very well respected programs, most of which were created during the 1984 famine. I would be more than happy to meet with anyone who is interested in supporting any program in Ethiopia upon my return. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO BOMBARD ME! I'll take in kind donations, give presentations to organizations or companies for structured funding, and I'll be more than happy to raise awareness in schools and higher learning institutes.

So that's it for now! I would really really appreciate your help in securing a better future for these children. Any help is sincerely appreciated not just by me, but by the director, the 'moms' and of course the children.

Thanks!!!

July 28

The Tree of Life can be found in Ethiopia. On my way to Arba Minch, in the south of the country, they grace the landscape as lakes do in Minnesota. Many have handmade barrels hanging from their branches filled with the local honey wine, Tej. Others are home to several small monkeys eating and playing.

I was told that the landscape would be flat, even boring perhaps but it was far from it. I was silent the entire ride unless asked if I was okay. That’s just how I am, when I’m exploring or learning I’m quiet and I didn’t want to say a word. I was taking everything in. The hilly, mountainous, fertile, sometimes flood and green landscape was amazing. Hills in Wolita resemble those of Chianti, Italy except the olive tress, they’ve been replaced by banana trees, sorghum, maze, and teff. One forgets that millions are starving in this country when seeing the plush forests, but it never escapes my mind that tomorrow the floods could continue and continue for another month of rainy season with the potential to destroy the crops millions have ploughed, planted and harvested by hand. Tomorrow is another day, today it is beautiful.

After starting my day at 7 am we finally arrive in Arba Minch (literally translated as forty-sources, as there is an area of the forest that has 40 springs in just 50 yards) at about 9 pm. Though one could assume it was a day of laziness I had a great 5 hour ab workout. The SUV twisted and turned and hit pot hole after pot hole on the last length of “road” which was more or less created by the Italians 100 years before when they tried to colonize the country. Nonetheless, I had arrived at my destination Tsehay Assefa’s Orphanage, home to 53 children who Tsehay has provided a home for along with tens of others who have been internationally adopted. She has managed to create a home for children for over 15 years, created when she was just 30 and after having been reunified with her two sons who were raised in a military orphanage for 9 years. Children travel from as far as 5 or more hours, some being brought by what is left of their birth relatives – begging Tsehay to take them in as they have no other place to go.

Tsehay provides the only home for orphaned and abandoned children in the Southern Nations, Nationalities, Peoples Region – home to more than 15 million impoverished people, early child marriage and female genital mutilation resulting in the death of young mothers, AIDS, and the number one killer, malaria – 99 percent preventable and almost always treatable.

I had arrived. I arrived anxious to see the children with the women who has managed to safe 100s of children’s lives. They bombarded the vehicle and opened its doors and climbed in to hug me and I was even presented with homemade bouquets of flowers. Kisses, kisses, and more kisses and handshakes awaited me outside the vehicle. The little hands coming from near my feet wiggled as they tried to get closer, there were 16 in all, 8 little toddlers. It felt like I had just reached heaven but I knew the reality was that these children had seen the death of their family – much closer to despair and aggravation of the situation in which they were powerless.

The link below provides a paper written by an 8th grade student and transracial adoptee. It's a great piece that provides understanding to adoptive families and to their communities.

http://kadnexus.wordpress.com/2007/06/04/my-sisters-adoption-essay/

Hello Sweetheart,

Are you sleeping peacefully? Dreaming of tomorrow? Perhaps of jumping rope with your best friends? The only friends you’ve ever had. I’m awake and I guess it’s about 2 am. I’m sleepless as I’ve been for the last 7 months. What I’m thinking of is what I’m always thinking of before I fall asleep…are you dreaming…what time did you go to bed...did someone tell you she loved you as she tucked you into your crib - crib that is much too small for you Did she read to you? Did you fall asleep easily? What were your last thoughts before drifting into Neverland? Have you thought of me today? Do you need me as much as I need you? These are all questions I’m begging for answers.

What is there not to say? I love you and I wish I could take you home forever at this moment…Well several moments ago…What seems like an eternity. What is it you dream of? I’ll try my best to provide it for you. What is it you’re afraid of…I’ll keep it away. What comforts you…I’ll lovingly hand it over to you. Your fears are mine and though I wish I could shatter them, pick them up and lock them into a faraway place I know that reality will not provide me with this opportunity. I’m longing for your arms to be wrapped around me once more. For you to run into my arms once again as though we’ve parted for millennia. For your head to rest peacefully into my neck as though there’s no one who gives you more comfort.

I have several hours before I can visit. How I wish I could arrive now and watch you sleep. Would you twitch as I move your hair from you face? Would you smile as you dream? Perhaps toss and turn in your crib in your clothes you’ll be wearing for days more and the shoes no one bothered to take off?

How I wish and hope that I can comfort you from your fears but for all I know I am destroying all you’ve ever known and it breaks me that I’ve caused you pain even unintentionally and with the best of intentions. I want you to soar. You deserve the whitest, widest wings in the skies.

I’ll be content here the rest of the night through as long as I know you’re safe, loved, and taken care of. I’ll try my best to smile for you and show the reflection in your eyes of complete and utter contentment. Peace. I will for you. You are my everything and for you I’d try anything. I love you and I’ll see you soon if not in my dreams then in the hours to come. And I’ll look forward to you running in from no where into my arms, asking to be held tightly, no end needs to be spoken of. That’s it. That’s all.

Finished 2:12 am.

“I am torn to do what I have to”

Greetings all.

Below are some links on children's issues if any of you are interested. They are featured as the 'news of the day' on the Children's Rights Information Network which has been an indispensable source of knowledge for me.

Zimbabwe: Girls fetch high prices as brides
http://crin.org/resources/infodetail.asp?id=14051

USA: Forced Apart - Families Separated and Immigrants Harmed by United States Deportation Policy
http://crin.org/resources/infodetail.asp?id=14050

NIGERIA: 62 children found hidden in lorry
http://crin.org/resources/infodetail.asp?id=14043

BANGLADESH: Child wedding 'stopped by pupils'
http://crin.org/resources/infoDetail.asp?ID=14014&flag=news

NIGERIA: Children dying needlessly from measles and other diseases
http://crin.org/resources/infoDetail.asp?ID=14007&flag=news

Terafa

Written at 3:48 am my time

I’ve never seen him more proud or content then he was yesterday. It seemed to me he stood a little taller and had more glee in his eyes than usual. He’s been a happy boy now for a few months. Labeled as mentally retarded by the staff and other children – all I saw when I first started volunteering was a grieving child, if shown patience and love could be a happy 4 year old boy. I remember the first time we met. As I entered the orphanage gates I began to walk up the path to visit the director. It took no more than a glance to see the heartache written on his face and the weight of life forcing his body toward the gravel. He sat alone, as I would soon learn he did through most of everyday. He appeared lifeless crunched into his legs sitting on the wooden retaining wall. He wasn’t just alone for the moment. He was alone in his grief, his life, his love, and with no one to would listen to his fears, his doubts, his love lost to where he didn’t understand.

Instinctively I went to him. And as I neared his slouched shoulders he lifted his exhausted face into my view. He sat there with no expectation from me. That was until I kneeled down to his height and spoke, “Salem neow, dahina nah?” (Peace be with you, how are you?) – the common greeting in Addis.

The next thing I knew I had a toddler in my arms, it seemed clinging to life. As was to be expected the silence of the moment was just that-a moment. It didn’t last long as more children became aware of the ferangi’s (foreigner’s) presence. Soon enough there were 40-50 children greeting me, all wanting to hold my hand and talk with them. Through all the hustle, Tarafa remained by my side after I had to put him down due to the commotion. He held my hand refusing to let go. Children pushed him-he cried. They teased him-it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let go. What I meant to him at that moment I don’t know, but the opportunities are endless and frightening.

After the commotion waned I decided to bring the children to the playground. We found a volleyball and as soon as I had to let go of Tarafa’s little hand he clung and cried. And though I wanted nothing more to stand by his side, there were 20 other children who wanted to play and until you experience having 20 children near your side who all lack the love and affection every child has a right to you can’t comprehend their need to play-if only to feel wanted, perhaps even loved.

There was no way to calm him. I would bump the ball a few times and try to stop his screaming. There was nothing that I could do to sooth him except to pick him up and place him in my arms, allowing him to bury his tear soaked face into my neck.

“He’s not right”
“He’s mentally retarded”
“He’s (pointing to his brain and shaking her head)”
He was constantly treated as an outsider.

I don’t see that boy anymore. The boy I used to know has disappeared. He’s much more confident, is laughing or smiling all day long; he plays with the other kids as though there was never that invisible barrier of grief protecting him from the others.

I’ve since learned his “story,” or at least just a few details. Kechene became Tarafa’s home almost one year ago. Until then, he lived with his family, his mother and father until the day his mother killed his father, her husband. A victim of severe abuse as many Ethiopian women are, with no legal rights and a system that seeks “justice” no matter the circumstance; no respect for women’s rights and certainly no understanding of self defense – she is jailed for life.

“Felagallo asayee inay libs….ihit.” was all I could make out (I want to show you my clothes…. Mother.) I complied without fully understanding what he meant. What do you mean, I thought? Clothes? Mother? Tarafa had never mentioned his had a mother in the orphanage (a caregiver who becomes a parent figure to a particular child). He took my hand and led me to his bedroom where a caregiver was folding the day’s laundry. “Inay libs yeut neow?” (Where are my clothes?). She took a few seconds and found a pair of khakis, a white t-shirt, and a blue long sleeve t-shirt. He said again with a glee in his eyes “Inay libs….ihit.” I could tell how important it was to him that I understand what he was saying as I knew the clothes weren’t from any of the donations I’ve brought before. My volunteer happened to be at the orphanage that day and so I called him over and asked Tarafa to repeat himself. “These are my new clothes from my mother” he said with the biggest smile I may have ever seen on him. I asked Nesredin to repeat what he said as I was in disbelief. “They’re from his mother.” “But she’s in prison” I said, “How could that be?” Then Nesredin explained to me that women are allowed to work in prison and so his mother could have had a little money saved up to buy him these clothes. It had completely surprised me in the best way possible. I turned back to Tarafa, “Betum, betum conjo libs, Tarafa, betum betum conjo.” (Very, very beautiful clothes Tarafa, very very beautiful). Next, he threw his clothes onto the bed and held his arms toward me asking to be held. I, of course, couldn’t resist. I picked him up and just as he had done six months ago he buried his face in my neck except this time he wasn’t sobbing-he was silent. I’d be lying if I said I knew what he was thinking, but then again it didn’t matter. I was there. He needed me. Perhaps he knew he didn’t have to cry…there was nothing to be said or expressed because I knew and now understood his pain.

For the next 10 minutes he was silent. It didn’t matter how many others came to speak with me or cling to my legs. With his arms wrapped around my neck and his legs dangling below he was still.

(just boarded the plane to leave for Addis from Duluth)

Why is it that every time I've gotten on a plane in the last 8 months it's with the intent of going home? It doesn't matter my destination, it could be Duluth or it could be departing from Duluth. I just want to be home. But where is 'home?' They say 'home is where the heart is' but what happens when your heart has broken in two and no longer feels whole anywhere? Part of my heart lies within the children I have grown to love in Ethiopia while the other half can be found in the house that I've left today.

Yet again I've considered walking out of the airport and calling a cab to take me home. I don't want to return to Ethiopia to leave my 'life' behind. Though I'm also longing to return to Kechene to hold the children, play on the swing set, read them books in English, bring them to the zoo, pick them up from their beds after their afternoon naps, feed them, cry for the ones who have left while celebrating their new lives with families who have impatiently waited for their children.

I look forward to everything and yet nothing at all. I miss everyone and no one at the same time. So which direction is that pointing me?