We are so grateful to have had the opportunity to take a few days off for some rest and relaxation. God has created such an amazing world. It was an honor to see and enjoy his handiwork. CLICK HERE to see more photos.

The other day I walked over to the camp office and on the way I found this...

It is a gorgeous plant, but check out the base of the plant. :) I can't help but get giddy every time I see this. The plant got "planted" without removing the bucket it was originally growing in. The grounds keeper obviously spent some time preparing the normally sandy soil, making it suitable for root growth. But he forgot one thing...to remove the barrier between the roots and the dirt :) My other favorite part is that the soil is wet around the bucket - someone had watered the ground with no hope of the plant receiving any of the water :) This made my afternoon, so I figured I would share it with you all! 

PS - My husband may or may not be the grounds keeper's boss... Some definitely got lost in translation :)

Rarely do days actually turn out the way I think they will, and yesterday was no different. Two weeks ago, we met with the kebele (government) leaders in Dawe, one of the local kebeles, to discuss our plan to hold a camp for girls with physical disabilities. Back in December, we held a camp for boys with physical disabilities. Since then we have seen drastic changes in the lives of the boys and it has been a great gateway into the community. Anyways, the kebele leaders were familiar with our idea and we set up a time to meet with the girls who would be coming to camp to hand out permission slips and make sure they are in the right age group (11-20 years). Upon once again calling the leaders to confirm that the girls would be able to meet us, we find out that the leaders had not told the girls or their families yet about the camp. With our initial plans for the day thwarted, we came up with plan B. 

Plan B consisted of taking the horses out in an attempt to find school leadership as well as several pastors. Our mission was two-fold. First to get the word out about camp, but also to invite local sports ministers to a time of encouragement, learning and networking this upcoming weekend. Armed with a backpack full of letters, Ase & I took off. On our way to the first school, we ran into a young lady who we invited to camp. Now, neither Ase nor I speak very good Oromifa, but we did our best to communicate. Ase read a letter in Oromifa with some of the crowd who had gathered around us correcting her pronunciation. I said hello and attempted to keep my agitated horse from scaring all of the little kids. We successfully delivered the letter and continued on our way.

At the first school, we found the director and informed him of our plans. While there were no kids in his school who fit our needs, he said that he would spread the word. We thanked him and headed off to the next school. Up until this point, the horses had been behaving fairly well. Ase was atop Gandolph, the leader who refuses to let any other horse pass him while ‘running’ at an absurdly slow pace. I was riding Scout. Now Scout is fairly submissive to Gandolph’s wishes of being the leader, but Scout’s natural gape is longer and faster than Gandolph’s. As a result, Scout’s rider is always victim to the world’s fastest trot. It is nearly impossible to keep rhythm with this trot and your legs just start swinging to and fro as if you are running atop the horse. If that wasn’t bad enough, the trot does a number on your insides. It feels like your organs are being slammed against each other and then against your skeleton. Wanting to keep my organs their natural location, I decided that the best tactic was to let Gandolph run ahead while I held Scout back. Then when Gandolph was almost out of sight, I would turn Scout loose and we would take off running to catch up. For the most part, the plan worked out well. 

Another fun part of the trek was that we didn’t know how to get where we were going. We knew the name of the schools, but we were unfamiliar with which paths would take us to them. Thankfully, there were several nice and helpful people along the way to help point us in the right direction. We made it to the second school with only taking one wrong turn. Upon arrival at the school, I spotted a man with an impressive beard. I proceeded to compliment him on his ‘beautiful facial hair’. He told me that he knew it was beautiful and that he wanted it to become red. It is very popular for Muslim men in our area to dye their beards red, which in actuality looks more burnt orange. I in turn told him that my husband had a beautiful red beard. He smiled courteously and continued to stroke his beard. We spoke with the school director, and he promised to spread the word about camp. 

Then we were off again, but this time the horses were afraid of everything. Every time we changed paths they would refuse to go forward. If there was a big puddle in the road, panic would surge through their bodies. After Gandolph backed Ase into a large tree twice, we decided to dismount and switch horses. This tactic worked for a while, but soon Gandolph became irritated with my continual request to run and to do so at a halfway decent clip. He started bucking and no matter what I tried he would only go backwards or attempt to break into someone’s field. With my frustration brewing and no forward progress being made, we again switched horses. When we came to a point in the path where we had to cross a shallow river, the horses were terrified. Thanks to a helpful young man, we were able to cross the river with minimal headache. 

One of my favorite things to do as we pass people is talk to the middle aged women in Oromifa. When I ask them how their families are doing, they are completely surprised when the words are in their language. The glee and bewilderment that crosses their faces makes me smile. Oh the simple things in life.

After a while we made it to the third school and to the two churches. With our mission complete we turned to head home. Along the way we ran into some kids who play on a local Sports Friends team. We said hi and found out that their coach was sick, so we stopped by his house to pray for him. When we left his house, I, rather unsuccessfully, attempted to mount my horse for the final time. The saddle ended up on the belly of the horse and I ended up on the ground. The crowd that had gathered laughed at how wolfram (fat) I was. After re-saddling the horse, we were on our way. 

The horses know when they are heading back home. The moment we turn back to the compound they take off running. At this point we had been on the horses for over 4 hours, traveled about 13 kilometers, and we still had 5 kilometers until we reached our compound, so we didn’t mind the horses’ urgency. However, about a kilometer down the road, it was as if the testosterone levels in the horses instantly rose. They each wanted to prove that their strength and stamina. Even with his head pulled to the side, Gandolph would run Scout off the road. Instead of running straight, Gandolph runs at an angle in an attempt to cut off Scout’s path. He always body slams Scout, which also means that Ase & I collide. If Gandolph can body slam Scout and then get half a length ahead of him, Gandolph will try to kick Scout. Being a reasonable horse, Scout tries to avoid Gandolph’s kick. This means that at any moment, Scout will either duck his head severely causing the rider to go lurching  forward. Or he will rear up on his hind legs, causing the rider to fall backwards. Attempting to prepare for either movement while avoiding tree branches is quite an experience. Needless to say, the horses fought the entire way home. By the grace of God we arrived exhausted but uninjured. With our mission complete, we headed to our homes to find food and water. Just another day in the office...

About this time last year, we were sorting through our belongings, trying to decide what to keep, give away and what to bring to Ethiopia. As we turned to the closet, Nicole’s face showed a great deal of concern. She quickly explained that she did not want to “look like a missionary.” You know what she is talking about, the super conservative skirts, well worn and 10 years out of style, combined with baggy shirts and the ensemble is completed by the white tennis shoes. So we faced a dilemma, what can we take to wear that is acceptable in the Oromo culture while still being comfortable and at least semi-fashionable. We had to think long and hard, but the solution finally came to us. Just dress like the Oromo people that we are working with! I think it has worked out quite well; it is very practical for work too  :)

We just wanted to say a big thank you to all of our supporters. The truck you helped provide us with is being put to good, hard use. Perhaps you would like to see a couple of pictures of the truck in action! To the left is a 2000 liter water tank that was installed today on a newly built stand. Hopefully the clinic will not run out of water now. The small rains have started which means the roads are turning into mud pits. So grateful to have 4 wheel drive & auto locking hubs. I can't count the number of times I got soaked last year getting out of the old car to lock the hubs. We could not do this work without your help. Thanks so much!!