Week One

Photo: Selemawit, Zanthe, Susan and Berhan

I arrived in Ethiopia in the early hours of the morning of July 20. A brief stopover in Addis and I was on my way to the capital of Tigray, Mekelle. Mekelle is a bustling town in Northern Ethiopia. The people are warm and hospitable. The children shout ‘faranji’ (foreigner) and rush to shake hands with this bizarre creature that I have apparently become. Mekelle is like living in two or three centuries at the same time. There are some of the most indescribably, chronically poor people I have ever seen, children working, selling what they can, begging and desperately trying to eek out a living. I am as likely to be run over by a horse and cart, as a top of the range jeep. Then there are the rows of electrical stores, selling wide screen TV’s and internet cafes with their 21st century state of the art flat screen computers, where the owners sit by candle light waiting patiently because the electricity on their side of the street is not working today. The cook baking bread with a wood burning stove and Sr Medhin lamenting the fact that she cannot access her email because the modem is not working. At a bus stop, a man tries to sell his herd of goats to waiting commuters. Ethiopia, I have never seen a place so full of contradictions in all my life!

I have come here to teach English in a project for homeless children ranging in age from 7 to 20. The Daughters of Charity, who run this project, are a partner organisation working with Trócaire. Myself and another volunteer, Anna (from the English development organisation CAFOD), are guests of the Sisters for the duration of our stay here. We are here for the next six weeks. An amazing opportunity to not only work with a partner organisation, but to live with and experience the day to day obstacles they face in their assistance of the poorest of the poor in Mekelle.

Nothing could have prepared me for the greeting that we received on Monday 24 July. It was emotional and at times overwhelming. The children sang and clapped as we arrived and a traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony was performed. Some of the older children have a band and ‘gig’ regularly around Mekelle, providing them with a small income, which is put into bank accounts for them to manage. It is an opportunity that teaches them the value of working, earning and managing their own finances. As the band played for us, some of the children got up and started to dance. This dance involves a lot of shoulder shrugging and is quite intricate and specific in its movement. I later learned it is called Iskista. It was a bit of a shock I can tell you when I had to take to the floor at 10.30 in the morning and much to their amusement, proceeded to make an eejit of myself.

Without exception, the children are enthusiastic and eager learners. They work so hard, writing and speaking. One boy in particular has started school for the first time in his life this year; he is 17 years old. The challenge for him is not only to speak a totally foreign language, but to read and write as well. A shy, unsure boy that one can see improve and grow in confidence daily. There is camaraderie amongst these children, an incredible bond brought about by the all too horrific tales of their lives. I was at a loss to understand but I am learning through talking to them, how families and lives can become so broken that a six year old child ends up fending for themselves on the streets. The common theme with most of the children begins with the onset of illness and ultimately the death of a parent, often the arrival of a step-parent, violence and chronic neglect appears to be the root cause in many cases. Other children are AIDS orphans, sent to live with relatives who cannot see the child as anything but a burden, another mouth to feed in an already stretched household.

The children are counselled by a trained social worker at the project, Tedros. It is he who usually finds them, having been alerted by the police about a child in desperate need of help. He and Sr Fiseha, usually manage to reunite the children with family members, working closely with the families, making frequent home visits and addressing the needs of all involved. Each morning the children have breakfast. They pay 10c (1c) for it, teaching them not to depend on charity. They earn this money, carrying bags at the local bus station, selling ‘softees’(tissues), or shoe shining. Some of the older boys attend local training colleges after school, hair styling or computer studies. The project also provides a facility that enables them to wash themselves and teaches them to wash their clothes. This they do every morning as soon as they arrive. They are provided with a nutritious biscuit after lessons each day. This is part of a supplementary feeding programme that gives them the essential vitamins required for survival. Not one day goes by that the children don’t offer a piece of what little they have. They are the poorest of the poor and yet the generosity of these children is something very special.

I came here to teach. What I have received is a lesson in humility. I was told it was their privilege to have me here. But the privilege is all mine.

Week Two

Photo: Sister Medhin, Fiesha and his Mom at his graduation

For the first week at the project, I had been teaching the advanced students. In general, grammar, plurals, past and present tenses as well as constructing paragraphs. I brought in the weekly English language paper, The Reporter and asked the students to choose sections of interest to them to read aloud for the rest of the class. I introduced the dictionary and taught them how to use it. As they have been responding well it was agreed with Anna that I will continue with this group.

This week I have been working with them to write and present a news item. Current Affairs, a Special Report, Fashion News, Sports feature, Entertainment news and the weather report, all written and presented by the children. I appointed a cameraman and director or dictator as he liked to call himself, a news editor and a continuity announcer who introduced each reporter with their item. The fashion item was presented by the only two girls in my class Berhan and Selemawit and with a lot of encouragement from the boys, they even managed to do a bit of modelling with a twirl or two thrown in for good measure.

The sports item was choc full of course. The passion that all of the boys have for soccer, particularly the English premiership is palpable. Last week one little guy of 10, Haftamu, realising I was Irish, wore his Roy Keane shirt. It was a Cork County GAA shirt, with R.Keane 16, carefully written on the back with a black marker; his prize possession.

The success of this project was in evidence on Sunday 6th August when Anna and I were invited to the Graduation ceremonies of three of the boys. They graduated from a local college with diplomas in Computer Science, an awesome achievement by any standard. We were invited to each boy’s home where we were welcomed and what very little they had was offered and shared. Their achievement even more remarkable when it became clear that two of the dwellings had no electricity and these boys studied at night usually by candlelight. We witnessed firsthand the poorest of the poor in Mekelle that day. Looking around me, it was hard to believe that we are actually in the 21st century. It was a shocking, appalling and emotional sight. What is very clear here, is that the Ethiopian people value education. There are five more of the former street children currently at Universities here, with one boy awaiting the results of his grade12 exam and the opportunity of heading to university himself. Three are studying medicine in Addis and the two others studying in Mekelle University.

Without the funding and cooperation of Trócaire/Cafod and the vision, dedication and determination of the Sisters and their staff, these children would most probably have stayed homeless, hopeless and uneducated.

Week Three

Photo: Mekelle Rules!

What a breakthrough week for the children. Every day our posse of bodyguards walk us home and practice their English, and every day I can see them grow in capability and confidence. I decided to introduce them to poetry. I wrote ‘Our Deepest Fear’ by Marianne Williamson, on the blackboard, they, feverishly copying it down, while I explained what it meant. Having taught them to use the dictionary last week, one of the students, Geree, spontaneously ran to get the dictionary to look up the words they were not sure of.

Something ignited in the classroom that day. There is a severe lack of story or fiction books here. Everything is matter of fact and there is no room, no time, for fantasy or independent thought. Today was different. After the children had voraciously dissected the poem, I asked them to write an essay on whatever they wanted. One of the boys, Daniel, an extremely bright sixteen year old, wrote a story and what a tale. It wasn’t the content of the story that moved me to tears, it was the fact that he had these ideas locked into his brain without an outlet. All of the children have now got the idea of imagination and how to use it, how fabulous it is to see. Their stories were bright, funny, articulate, tragic, but they were theirs. I wrote some key words on the board a couple of days later and told the children to make sentences out of them. Our bright spark Daniel, having considered his options for a while, brought me his work. He had written a poem.

As these children are the most tenacious followers of soccer it has been my experience to witness, I decided to introduce them to the rugby ball. I painstakingly went through the rules of tip rugby with them. They all nodded in understanding and agreement, until they got the ball that is! It was the most fiercely fought and contentious game I have ever witnessed. Not even the mighty men of Munster could have held this tide back. Tip rugby it certainly was not. The girls proving to be as tough as the boys, one of them holding the ball so tightly no one could get it off of her. A new game was born that day: Mekele Rules.

Week Four

Photo: The Band play on.

After the chaotic scenes at their ‘rugby match’ last week, I walked very tentatively through the gates this week. There I was met by six of the lads doing The Haka! It turns out that they hired a video of the All Blacks in action, studied what all this rugby lark was all about and came back with a whole other perspective on the game, and some fairly serious facial expressions. It was their surprise for me. While the game was a little more ordered this week, they were still playing pretty much to their own rules, and it was great. For kids with no formal training in a game that most of them had never seen, let alone played before, their ball handling, passing and jinking is a joy to behold.

This week I had the children think about what this project has meant to them. There responses have been moving and sometimes very difficult to hear. Many of the children had no hope. As one said, ‘this project has helped me to open my mind’. Apart from all of the practical things like washing their clothes and getting breakfast, the overwhelming sense I get from them is that this project has made them visible human beings again. They are loved and cared for by all of the Sisters who know them all well, and by the staff at the project who are dedicated and loyal.

Three of ‘my boys’ brought us to where they learn and practice their music. It is a metal truck container parked at the back of the Red Cross centre here in Mekelle. The band are fantastic. They play mainly Tigrinian and Amharic music, both of which have particular and distinctive sounds. They were just getting into their ‘groove’ when yet another power cut hit the street. Then it was on to the Drama workshop. This drama group are very successful in Ethiopia, winners of a prestigious drama award recently. The class was being taken through their paces by a local comedian who was teaching them about improvised comedy. I couldn’t understand a word of it, but their expressions and delivery made it very funny. Both of these outlets are an important feature in the lives of the street children in providing them with a safe haven for at least a couple of hours a day.

We went to a local café and started to talk about music and the kind of music we have in Ireland. Ironically, for a man who does so much to promote the cause of the developing world, none of them had heard of Bono! On hearing some of U2’s music they were underwhelmed, ‘it’s ok, but he’s no Teddy Afro’ (a very successful Ethiopian singer song writer).

One boy, Tesefy, is one of the quietest, shyest boys I have ever met, until you hand him an electric guitar and a microphone. He is passionate about music and talking to him about it was the first time I had seen him so animated in all of the time we have been here. Another success story for the project, Tesefy has just completed his Grade 12 exams and has been offered a place in University to study Business.

Week Five

Ashenda, the cry of every girl in the Tigray region. Let me explain. Ashenda in Tigrinya means ‘tall green grass’. This grass is used either to spread on floors of homes and shops as a welcome to people or some of the girls actually make grass skirts from it. Ashenda marks the end of a fasting period of two weeks known as Filseta, a Christian Orthodox way of celebrating the Assumption of Mary.The girls get new dresses and shoes, wear makeup and jewellery, sing and beat on a small drum known as a kebero. They collect money from people as they pass, ignore them at your peril, they will chase you down the street singing their displeasure at you and generally shaming you into it. When you give them money, they sing all the blessings they can think of. It was the most animated I have seen the girls here since I arrived in Mekelle. They were so excited because for one day in the whole year, this is about them. An un-inhibited celebration of girlhood. We were to witness the celebrations all over the Tigray region as we embarked on a road trip that was to take us eventually to Axum.

August 22, the end of fasting and to celebrate the feast of the Assumption the girls of Mekelle were out in force, beating their drums and singing until they had no voices left. We set out for a place called Alitiena. Every Catholic Priest and Nun we have met so far is from Alitiena. While Catholics make up only 1% of the population of Ethiopia, they are influential in their approach to practical, selfless and sustainable assistance of the poor here.

The scenery is stunning. Because this is the rainy season, everywhere is so green. It is hard to believe that in three to four short weeks all of this lushness will be again reduced to scorched earth. We saw many of the rock hewn churches of Tigray. They predate Lalibella by three centuries. The monastery at Debre Damo is inaccessible except by climbing ropes, a precarious journey in which the monks will assist you by pulling the rope up. Unless of course you’re a woman. Then they well allow you to ‘dangle’ at the end of the rope. Tempting as it was, we opted to give the dangling a miss!

The road itself is bumpy, narrow and fraught with danger as it is actually ‘missing’ in places. We had an excellent driver who works with ADCS (Adigrat Diocese Catholic Secretariat) based in Mekelle. He was very reassuring as we climbed up the mountain road, an ear popping and heart pounding 3,000 meters high, up and over the top and back down the other side. Scary stuff. We arrived in Alitiena sometime after dark to a very warm reception by the Sisters and the Vincentian Fathers who live and work in the most remote extreme place I have ever witnessed. The road actually ends there, after that any further destinations must be reached on foot. More climbing as it is a mountainous terrain with most pathways suitable only for donkeys. They have just recently been ‘switched on’, with electricity only becoming available in the past five months. It was a very clear and beautiful night sky and the stars were burning more brightly than I had ever seen them. As I was gazing up, the assistant Parish Priest was explaining how local people could tell the time by looking at the stars.

Daylight brought the most astonishing views. People here live in stone houses set into the side of mountains. It looks like they are living in a quarry. We got a tour of the kindergarten, the school the Vincentians established in 1892 and is said to be the oldest school in Ethiopia. We also visited the clinic the sisters from the Daughters of Charity run, providing medical services for up to 30,000 people. With no doctors here, they frequently have to refer people to the hospital in Adigrat.

Alitiena is a three hour hike from the Eritrean border and was in the front line for the war. The mountains have been stripped bare and people hid out in the caves while shells pounded their homes and livelihoods. While the buildings bear the visible scars of the war, the people are burdened with the invisible ones. Life is extremely hard here with little or no means of generating an income, they are very reliant on aid.

Then we made the trek to Axum, six hours through the most amazing, stunning scenery ever. It was great to see St Mary’s of Zion where the Arc of the Covenant resides having been brought there from Jerusalem by the Queen of Sheba. We also went to see King Kalebs tomb, where I was chased by a bat. I would like to say it was a dignified exit, but in truth I ran, screaming, like…. a bat out of hell, much to the merriment of the locals, the driver, the guide and Anna. A brief stop off at the Don Bosco School in Adwa and we were on our way back to Mekelle for our last week with the children.

Week Six

Our last week here at the Aba Gebremichael project. It only seems like five minutes ago since we drove through those big green gates and nervously scanned the faces of children high with anticipation, anxiety and immense excitement.

This week has been one of winding down. Informal chatting, reading and playing replacing the formal organised lessons of the last few weeks. Anna’s husband had sent some story books for the children. They loved them. One of the children describing them as little dramas with words. They had never seen books like them. It doesn’t matter if the children are 8 or 18, they get the same joy and wonder from new things and they were in awe of these simple stories. There is an undercurrent of excitement here and it transpires that a farewell party is being ‘secretly’ organised. It will combine our leaving with the celebrations of the graduations and the recent marriage of a member of staff. Some of the boys kept disappearing into the music room where they have been rehearsing both traditional and some hip hop dancing. The hip hop being choreographed by the boys themselves from bits of videos that they have seen from MTV through the windows of shops or bars where satellite television is available.

Having been delivered by horse and cart a marquee of sorts had been erected by some of the older boys. It is an investment the Sisters made last year and it is used for Christmas and Easter celebrations, and we were so glad of it, the rain bucketed down relentlessly all day. There was a real carnival atmosphere as the boys in the band played and the children all danced and laughed and ate their injera. It was great to see them eating and relishing every morsel of food.

Some of the children were called upon to tell everyone what they had learned over the few weeks. It was great to see and hear some of the children, especially the quieter ones, speak in English in front of the crowd, with new found confidence in their ability. We were then presented with cultural dresses, which we quickly changed into. We were now Habisha (local) and not Faranji (foreigner) so with massive support and much cheering it was time to join in with our version of Ikista. It was a fantastic end to an amazing six weeks.

I came here to teach English. I have learned more than I could ever teach. I have received love and acceptance by strangers who have become like family to me. I am going to miss them all very much. They will be with me forever, and I pray that they reach their full potential as human beings and that they stay healthy. They so deserve it.