December 4, 2009

Today was the last day here in Ethiopia for everyone in our "travel group" except us. Things started off fairly low key after a much appreciated solid night's sleep, thanks especially to the amoxicillin that has already greatly reduced the frequency of Zenebe's coughing fits. After breakfast, Dave and Emily headed out with another couple to visit an orphanage for HIV-positive kids in Addis called AHOPE to donate the heaps of supplies generously donated by our friends and family. We received an unexpected, impromptu tour of the children's home, finding it simultaneously heartbreaking to see so many afflicted children but also wonderful to see how much AHOPE does to brighten the lives (and futures!) of these kids.

Our guide (the assistant director?) explained that all the children living at the home are full orphans with no remaining relatives able or willing to look after them, and that they currently receive referrals for more children than they can care for -- currently just under 100 children. They have placed 43 kids for adoption, a wonderful gift to these kids, but currently only an option for parents in Spain and (as of fairly recently) the United States. AHOPE has made such a difference that, for the

first time, they are now contending with ways to help young adults who grow old enough to leave their care and transition back into the community. Despite the obvious good they do, AHOPE receives no assistance from the government, nor any discounts from hospitals, and we'd certainly encourage folks to check out their US fundraising efforts (they have stuff you can buy or kids you can sponsor).

We then drove around Addis for a little while on a fruitless search for Ethiopian soccer jerseys and croc-like sandals . Actually, we found some adult track jacets for $60 (which was a bit out of our budget and size range), and we did get to drive around the old Italian neighborhood of Addis for the first time. Instead we bought some shoes at a stall next to the orphanage so that we don't wind up taking our kids home barefoot.

After lunch and nap-time (during which Dave started trying to pack up all our souvenirs) was the much-anticipated coffee ceremony. The kids had been practicing songs all week. Somehow, we managed to arrive five minutes before the starting time and still be late! But Amare jumped right into the singing circle and even led a few songs himself. He was full of grins, and after a little adjusting, even Zenebe got into the dancing. Then the director spoke about the various humanitarian programs run by Wide Horizons for all the kids that don't get adopted. Meanwhile, the coffee beans were being roasted and the smoke filled the air in the guest house. After all the children were then officially presented, along with their paperwork, to their parents, we were served little cups of the darkest, richest coffee known to humanity, along with popcorn, which the kids stuffed their faces full of.

Finally came the good-bye songs and the hugs with the nannies. This was so incredibly sad, especially for the older kids. Zenebe was completely hopped up on popcorn and coffee fumes, as well as oblivious to the meaning of the day. Amare, on the other hand, fully understood his farewell to the nannies and cried quietly. Big fat silent tears running down his cheeks. To make matters worse, he will see all those nannies tomorrow and have to say goodbye again. So, once we were all wet-eyed and puffy-faced we had our big group photo. I'm sure our whole family will look just fabulous. It was definitely a sad event.

We came back to our room and the older kids' home while the rest of the families packed up and got ready for the airport. We just played with the kids, vainly trying to keep Zenebe from running around and inciting another coughing fit. We were trying to get everybody to chill out a bit in our room when the driver and one of the other kids burst in to make sure our bags were packed and tell the boys they needed to hurry and eat dinner. Somehow, nobody (including, most importantly, Amare) knew that we were leaving on a different flight tomorrow. When this was explained to Amare, he was heart-broken that all his friends were leaving and he was left behind. More giant tears just rolling down his cheeks. The sweet nanny explained to him that he was leaving with us tomorrow, but that didn't help one bit. The best we can figure is that he assumed that all of the families and his friends from the orphanage were going to "America" together, and that we'd all still live together in a big compound with soccer balls, building blocks and bubbles. The little boy that had been so excited to sing his heart out at the coffee ceremony was now completely just so so sad. We had to leave for dinner, and when we came back both boys were already tucked into a bunkbed in the kids' room. Zenebe greeted us with his now-usual enthusiam, but Amare was completely despondent. Amare obligingly followed us back to our room and climbed into bed, but just lay down and shed a few more silent tears while we read their bedtime story. While we are distressed that he feels so betrayed, we also realize that there was no way for such a little boy to fully comprehend the drastic life-change that is happening to him, and we're thankful that the nannies are around to try and help him understand. We can only hope that by tomorrow things will seem a little better for our little guy. Sigh.