Aardsma

On life and business.

In the 10 days since I returned from Ethiopia, I’ve been reflecting on some of the contrasts. The obvious wealth differences don’t move me as much as these do:

Morning in Ethiopia: If it is my turn, I get up early and cook breakfast with another person as a team. All 11 of us in the guest house eat together. As we finish eating we are joined by five social workers, two housekeepers who are like family, and a few other staff members for morning devotions.

Morning in America: I get up at the last possible minute and hurry out the door to work without eating breakfast. I have little if any interaction with anyone before work.

Commuting in Ethiopia: We team up with 3 or 4 other people and talk for 30 minutes while we wait for transportation or coordination. We cram into a small Bajaj or a chock-full taxi van in physical contact with multiple people and jostle and joke and talk along the way to our destination.

Commuting in America: I get in my individual personal car and drive alone in silence, planning my day’s work in my head. I don’t even make eye contact with people in the other individual cars.

Workday in Ethiopia: We crowd into a 8×8 foot house with 4 other adults and a few kids. We sit on a few borrowed chairs and a child sits on my lap. Flies, fleas, and people are all touching me due to the size and condition of the house. We converse and play games for over an hour while the children’s mother hospitably prepares coffee for us from raw coffee beans over a charcoal fire in the center of the floor.

Workday in America: I sit alone in my office typing on my laptop, analyzing business performance numbers and text messaging employees in silence.

Evening in Ethiopia: We sit on the guesthouse couches and talk about the experiences of the day while we wait for the team cooking dinner. We eat together, and another team washes the dishes together by hand. We play card games together late into the night. We go to bed in a room full of bunk beds and other people.

Evening in America: I get home after dinner time, having finished dropping off and picking up my kids from extracurriculars. I eat drive through food by myself between one of those stops.

I have a great life in America, and it doesn’t come close to the community and togetherness that fills the lives of my new Ethiopian friends. We can afford to be isolated from each other here, and it’s not good for us. I want to amp up the togetherness in my life.

Your children wait for nothing
While your fathers run away.
Your mothers smiling,
Sick and worried
Work and scramble for enough
To shelter for a day.

Your sun is high, and hot and
It goes by my home and yours.
Your golden hearts and
Dirt-floor churches
Sing and pray to our God
Who sees and cares and cures.

Your needs are deep and daunting,
Sickness, hunger laugh and play
To even start,
It’s minds and hearts that
Must let go of things they know
And think a different way.

Your givers toil ever,
Sharing food and serving love.
Their own needs last,
Their faith amazing
Dawn to dark and miles on miles
They give without enough.

Oh Debre Zeyit you welcomed us
To all your love and pain.
We leave with burning
Questions, knowing
We will act and we will change
We will come back again.

I went to Debre Zeyit with BCI. I saw firsthand the heart and integrity of their child sponsorship program. 100% of the child sponsorship money goes to Ethiopia, none goes to organizational overhead. BCI’s five social workers in Debre Zeyit are giving, committed Christian Ethiopians who work constantly and selflessly to help the children. I met most of the 140 children currently in the BCI program, some of whom still need sponsors. I urge you to get involved.

Today our mission team ran activity day, a regular VBS-style day for the sponsored children in the BCI program. To my relief it went off quite smoothly.

Missionaries, program kids, and locals playing volleyball.

Feeding program underway.

Sixteen people in one minivan taxi on the way back from activity day.

Friday in Ethiopia I had great fun co-teaching a training on planning. The teaching staff of the BCI Academy school participated.

After an introduction I led with the big why question. You just can’t plan if you don’t know the why.

“Why does BCI Academy exist?”

First nobody wanted to raise their hand. Then a teacher said “To teach students.”

I said “Good answer, that’s the basic truth. Why do you want to teach students?”

“To enable them to do well academically.”

I asked “If the students do well academically, then what?”

After a silence the principle raised his hand. “If the students do well academically they will be productive and successful members of society, and we will make a better Ethiopia.”

I got chills when he said that. What a big why and a great motivation to the teachers. With that inspiring vision in mind, we were ready to talk about how deliberate planning gets us from here to there.