2 Weeks in Africa: Meeting My Compassion Child, Fanose

After the exciting road trip, (which you can read about HERE), we finally arrived to the Compassion project site just before noon.  I'd originally imagined a couple hundred children swarming everywhere, but my host Miaritz had told me that they'd all be in school, and Fanose would skip school to meet me.  (oops!)  So then I imagined it being just her at the site.  When I got there, there was a single file line of about fifteen teenagers, and Fanose was at the front.  I recognized her immediately from the pictures I have of her. It was such a sweet, precious moment seeing her walk towards me with those red flowers and that big smile.

 

We went inside the main building of the site, and I think her nerves kicked in, because she didn't smile again for a good while--maybe an hour or so.  She held my hand, though, and never let go.  She would often look down and touch my white skin and then her dark skin.

The director of the site introduced himself and his staff, and then explained what they do there at the site.  I wish I'd had a video recorder, so I could play all of this part back, because I was so overwhelmed with joy and wanting to talk to Fanose that I don't remember all the details of what he said. Two of the staff had taken my camera and my phone to take photos for me so that I could just focus, which was just wonderful, honestly.

He explained that they have around 250 children at their site, which has been open for five years.  (And I've been sponsoring Fanose for five, so I must have signed up right as their site was opening.)  All but 7 of the children at the site have sponsors.  I am only the second sponsor to come visit, and the first one had come only two weeks before me!  Their village (or region?) has 350,000 people (I might have heard that number wrong, because it seemed like a huge number).  It is 75% Protestant, and 25% Orthodox.  Families can apply to have one child from their family enrolled in the Compassion program, and then the staff, with the local government, decides which children are the most needy and can be accepted into the program.  The site functions a bit like an after-school program, where the children come each day after attending local school, and on Saturdays.  In the program, they have four areas where they serve the children: spiritual, education, health, and social.  

After his presentation, the children got up to perform two songs for me while a woman from the staff performed the traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony.  Because the kids were singing, I didn't really get to watch her make the coffee, but the man with my camera took a few photos.

You'll notice that the coffee beans are green.  They roast them in a skillet over a charcoal fire.

The smell just got better and better as the beans grew darker and darker.  Oh man.  Coffee heaven.

Once they are nice and dark, she ground them in a mortar and pestle.  I, unfortunately, don't have a photo of that step in the ceremony, but only this annoyed look she gave the guy with my camera.  Ha.

Then she put the grinds and the hot water into the pot, and set it on the ground to let it steep and allow the grinds to sink to the bottom of the pot.  While that part was going on, she put sugar in each cup.

I think the director told her to give him more sugar in his, and she started giving him a hard time that he didn't need that much sugar.  I like how much sass this lady has!

The coffee is normally served with popcorn and grilled barley.  They served these first.

Then came the coffee!

After the coffee was served, Miaritz leaned over and explained that it traditional for the guest to "break the bread."  He said that I just need to do the initial cutting of the bread, and that the staff will take it from there to slice it up completely.  I got really excited to do something so cultural.  I mean--look at that knife!

However, that was some severely thick bread!!!  I had to grip both hands onto the knife, and sort of hack at it.  Apparently, I hacked too much, because Miaritz jumped up and told me I'd done enough. Haha.

It had to be six inches thick!  They served the bread next.  It tasted a bit like sourdough bread, but with some kind of spice in it that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  Not quite anis, but something similar.  (Also, I don't know if anis is an English word, sorry.)

As I said above, while the coffee was being made, the kids sang two songs for me.  The first one was slow and appeared very worshipful.  I asked Miaritz later if he knew the songs, and he said no.  Also, he spoke English and Amharic (the national language of Ethiopia), and the director spoke Amharic and Oromo, and Fanose spoke Oromo and some Amharic.  So...when she said something, she said it to the director, (in Oromo), who translated it into Amharic to Miaritz, who then translated it into English for me.  The songs were in Oromo, and never got translated, so I'm not quite sure what they said.  But they were fun to watch.  Oh so fun to watch!

Next, they took me on a tour.  I don't have photos from the offices, which is where we went first.  In the first office, they showed me charts of how well the children are doing in school and in health.  He explained how the financial help from the sponsors is divided out to help the children.  They had a board with the pictures of all the children in the center, and I immediately found Fanose's photo--even before they did.  Everyone was shocked that I could spot her so quickly among so many.  I explained that I keep a photo of her on my bookshelf, and another in my wallet, so that I see her face every day. She beamed with pride at that.

The second office belonged to the social worker.  Again, I can't quite remember what the social worker does.  Sorry.  The office was super organized, with a full wall of bookshelves that were lined with folders.  They pulled out Fanose's folder and showed me all the papers in it.  I got to see each donation I'd made (on top of the monthly support), and what was purchased with it.  That was cool.  They want to make sure that they are transparent and that sponsors can be assured that their money is going to exactly what they think it is.  I like that.

Next we went outside to see the other buildings.  This one was painted with gorgeous murals.

The coffee ceremony.  The writing between the two windows is Amharic.

I don't know if this is supposed to be one of the apostles writing a New Testament letter, or just a really pale Ethiopian writing a letter?  Or maybe a sponsor writing a letter?

A farmer?

This is the other side of that building.  Each classroom had a special function: learning computer skills, learning sewing skills etc.

Fanose said the swing set is her favorite place to play at the site.

They told me to go swing with her, so I did.  I guess it made a nice photo op?  It's interesting how sunshiny it was at this moment, because in just a few short hours, that insane storm descended upon us.

Then we piled into the van to drive over to her house.  Since I finally had my phone back, I was able to take a few selfies with her.  She wasn't sure at first, but oh man, did we ever get to giggling as we clicked more and more.

As we went by this church, she got really excited and pointed at it, and said in English, "Church!"  I asked if that was her church, and she nodded yes.  Bless my heart.

Fanose is an orphan--her parents died when she was three years old.  (She's 11 now.)  This neighbor was broken-hearted for a child to be an orphan at such a young age, and took her in as her own child, (she and her husband have five of their own).  Fanose's brother, who is four years older than her, lives with the next door neighbor, so they're not far apart.

I can't even describe how much this woman blessed me.  She clearly loves Fanose as her own daughter.  Even more, she loves the Lord.  She talked so sweetly of Him, and how He takes care of them and strengthens them.  Of His faithfulness and goodness to them.  I truly felt His presence there in the small house, and knew that I was among the Family of believers. 

She also performed the coffee ceremony for me.  (Check out that gorgeous coffee pot!!!)  Seriously, it was the best cup of coffee I've ever had in my life.  Just perfect.

How sweet is that girl?!  She stayed cuddled up by me the entire day.

We had a time of sharing--her family asking me questions, and then me asking them some.  

More popcorn was served.  That's Miaritz, by the way.  For some reason, I never got a good photo of him that day.  Bummed about that, because he was awesome.

Then they had me present my gifts to Fanose.  I'd looked up on the Compassion website for suggestions of what to bring.  I gave her a small toiletry bag that had fingernail polish and remover (and cotton swabs), fingernail clippers, fun colored hair barrettes, lotion, and lip balm.  She seemed to like all of that.

Then I gave her a coloring book that seems popular among girls her age here.  It has the same drawing multiple times, of a girl with a horse.  There are stencils and stickers so that you can draw different clothes on her.  I gave her some sparkly pens and colored pencils and a pencil sharpener shaped like a globe.  I used it to show her where she lives and where I live.

I also gave her some lollipops, a small journal, a story book of the Queen of Sheba in English and Amharic, and a postcard of Marseille.  I gave her mother some Provence lavender and Marseille soap.

Then they asked me to pray for her.  Again, such a sweet time of fellowship with believers, despite the different culture and language.

Here is a photo with me and her family.  Her brother is just beside her.

We headed back to the project site, where we had lunch.  Miaritz had ordered steak sandwiches from an Italian place in Addis, and we'd brought them with us.  Fanose went to town on the french fries, and saved half her sandwich for later.

Look how happy her brother is!

After lunch, we went outside to play frisbee for awhile.  I'd been told to come prepared to play games with the children.  Again, I'd thought there would be hundreds and I wasn't sure at all what I was going to do.  But I'd brought a soccer ball, several frisbees, a jump rope and some bubbles for the project to keep.  Frisbee is right up my alley, and so I was glad it was just me and her and not hundreds of kids.

There was an old man there making a particular kind of blanket that they all have in their region.  Many people wrap up in them as a shawl.

That was cool to see.

Then, it was time to go.  We'd already stayed later than planned, since we'd arrived so much later than scheduled.  All in all, the visit was only about 2.5 hours.  This is the church on the project site.

One last picture with Fanose and her brother.

We drove her back to her house.  Miaritz explained that she'll be famous for at least a week, as everyone not only in the town, but also in the area, will know that a firenji (foreigner) came to Gojo.  They'll ask who the firenji came to see, and be directed to Fanose's house.  She'll get to retell the story over and over, and show off the things I brought to her.  I wished I could have brought her the moon.

One of the neat things about the day were some of the conversations I got to have with Miaritz.  He explained that he grew up in the project.  In thirteen years of being sponsored, he only ever received two letters from his sponsor.  He said, "Obviously, the money the sponsor gives is important, and I'm thankful for that.  It gave me food and clothes and allowed me to learn more about Christ and opened up opportunities for me to succeed after I graduated from the program.  But...when a child receives a letter from their sponsor, it means the world.  You feel remembered, loved, special, not forgotten.  The letters are the meaningful part."

Another man who grew up in the program was there.  I asked him, "Did you get many letters from your sponsor?"  He said, "Oh yes!  Many!  So many!"  When I asked how often, he said, "About 3-4 a year for 20 years."  Wow.  3-4 times a year to make them feel remembered, loved, special, and not forgotten.

One of the main things I remember about the afternoon is feeling (in a positive way) overwhelmed with joy.  I've thought since then that parents must feel that way, but even more so, since it's their actual kid.  Getting to hold her hand, love on her, see her smile, and let her know she is special and loved was a great experience.  I've struggled to find words for it.

I thought about it a few weeks later, and realized that it's much like how I felt during and after my trip to J-town.  Seeing the Garden Tomb was something that resonated so very deeply in my heart...and yet I couldn't bring myself to talk about it.  I never blogged what it meant to me.  I wanted to, but I just couldn't find the words.  Meeting Fanose was the same way.  It was one of the most meaningful moments of my life, and yet I can't find a way to describe that, and so I haven't talked about it that much.

But I have thought about her and Ethiopia every single day since then.  I'm so grateful for the 2.5 hours, but I wish it had been longer.  I wish that I could have seen what her normal days look like, her normal experience at the project site.  What things make her happy?  What things bother her?  Who are her closest friends?  What does she talk about with her friends? What does she hope to do in life?  Does she want to leave Gojo?  And so much more...

It's amazing how it went from this in 2010:

...to five years of this:

...to this in 2015:

I hope to go back.  I hope that next time I can ask all those questions I didn't get to ask this time.  I suppose I can ask them in my letters, and I probably will.  But I look forward to having her snuggle up against me again, holding my hand and looking at the difference in our skin colors and being amazed at my hair compared to hers.  It was worth the cost to go, and it was worth the bumpy ride to get there.  

It was a gold star day.