Blog Hurso

All Work and No Play...

2010-03-28T13:12:00.001-07:00

Seedlings of Hope

2010-03-28T13:06:00.000-07:00

Yonas

2010-03-17T08:19:00.000-07:00

Yonas is a 4-year-old from Hurso. He is in kindergarten and wants to be a doctor when he grows up. He likes football, but after his inaugural ride around the compound, he determined that his favorite thing to do was ride motorcycles. He is usually found amidst the mass of groupies who trail us, at intervals, everywhere we go in Hurso.

Future Medical Clinic

2010-02-14T06:11:00.000-08:00

In a few weeks, we are going to do a one day medical clinic in Hurso. This medical clinic will not only help the people of Hurso with their current physical ailments, but it will also provide us with an assessment of the illnesses and diseases common to the village so that we can steer our health education curriculum towards meeting those needs. This clinic will also establish a basic understanding of how healthy Hurso is, so that we can quantify the progress of TCD in the village over the next few years.
In preparation for this clinic, Peter and I have been attending clinics in and around Dire Dawa in order to learn the ropes a bit and get a better idea of what we’ll need for the Hurso clinic. It has been interesting and enlightening. We’ve gotten the chance to assist the lab technician and help out with crowd control. I’ve learned to demonstrate the proper application technique of anti-hemorrhoid cream to Somalis without speaking a lick of Somali.
The poorest and sickest people in Dire Dawa come to these clinics because the medical services and medicine itself is provided free of charge by another the NGO our friends work for. We see cases that bring a smile to your face and others that bring tears to your eyes. A few weeks ago a woman was rolled into the clinic in a broken wheelbarrow. I won’t log a full account of her illness so as to save our squeamish audience, of which I am the chairman, undue queasiness. Her leg was gangrenous to the bone and our doctors thought she would, at best, lose the whole leg, but more than likely succumb to her infection. They drained abscess weekly and gave her antibiotics. Slowly but surely, her leg healed. It has been truly miraculous. This past Thursday, she walked in with only a slight limp and a smile on her face.
Also last Thursday, we had an 80 year-old woman come the clinic. Lee, an American who speaks Somali, asked her where she was hurting. She looked at up at him from her hunched position, squinted, puckered out her bottom lip, tilted her head to one side, shrugged her shoulders, and, in one emphatic gesture, flipped both of her hands out and up to heaven to signify that she hurt everywhere. It was the cutest and most pitiful thing I have ever seen. We gave her a couple hundred milligrams of Ibuprofen and a tall glass of water. After of hauling more than 50 kilograms firewood on her back for more than 20 kilometers every day for more than 40 years, I am surprised she can walk at all. I think she just wanted to tell somebody she was tired and a little sore more than she wanted anyone to attempt to ease the load; she’s a tough lady and well accustomed to carrying burdens alone. Having someone to talk to did more for her than the medicine ever will.

So What Do We Do All Day?

2010-01-30T14:35:00.000-08:00

And They’re Off: TCD on Wheels

2010-01-20T21:50:00.000-08:00

As we put road between us and Addis in a mini-van packed with two dirt-bikes, their proud owners, and a fascinating Ethiopian driver, we could not have predicted the adventure ahead of us. Upon our return, Siggi stated matter-of-factly, “Chinese bikes? You must be sure to check every screw.” A little offended that he share our deep affinity for our new toys, we reluctantly pulled out our wrench set and began tightening what seemed like perfectly taught bolts. The wheels were secure; what else mattered?
The next day, my birthday, we hit the road for the first time. We raced across the desert glad to finally have a desert wind in our hair rather than the high altitude pollution of Addis Ababa. We made it about a kilometer down the road before we hit our first obstacle; donkeys brought us to a grinding halt and tested every ounce of my newly acquired motorcycle accident avoidance skill.
A little further down the only road to Hurso, we ride through the town of Melkacheptu. It is a quaint little village with charming hordes of children who accurately hurl rocks at us from the side streets as we slowly maneuver through the sea of careless pedestrians.
It was in this town, on our inaugural ride, that Peter discovered that, “somewhere back there,” he lost his shifter pedal. He would spend the rest of his ride in 5th gear.
After successfully navigating the labyrinthine maze of Melkacheptu, we found the great open road that leads curvaceously to Hurso. Over hill and dale, across bridges that link bits of landscape not tattered by the erosive torrents of the rainy season, meanwhile yielding to baboons, donkeys, and camels, and dodging dust storms that nearly knock us from our mount, we cautiously made our way to Hurso.
Success! We pull into the school compound a little shaken up, a little sore, and very dusty. After a days work, we headed back to our bikes, Peter focused on 5th gear drive at hand, and I on the task of remaining upright against a mass of foes on this my second time driving a motorcycle . It was then that we realized the screws on my license plate had loosed themselves “somewhere back there.” As Peter tried to get a good roll going to start off in 5th, I discovered, via my immense knowledge of small engine mechanics, that my bike was no longer in possession of a battery. It, like my license plate, had taken flight in the vast expanse between Hurso and home. Time to test out my kick starter! Kick starters are so much more refined anyway. Kick, Kick…Snap. Kick, Kick…Crackle. Kick, Kick…Pop. The kick that started the bike also broke the kick starter. A little more than discouraged, we headed back home at about 15mph, as opposed to the 40mph we averaged on our approach.
We had nearly made it home when I turned to see if Peter was still riding a bike. About 500 meters back, in a scene that would become common place, Peter lay crouching beside his bike. His license plate had nearly fallen off. He rescued it while it hung by one rickety, nut-less bolt. My bike stopped running as I attempted to idle at his side.
A few more forced stops, and we were home; our deflated spirits lasted only until dinner.
The next day, we called our Ethiopian friend Zerihun to pick up some spare parts and a new license plate. He suggested that, on our future trips out to Hurso, we have Alex follow behind on foot with a suitcase to collect all of the parts we lose so he can eventually build his own motorcycle.
In the weeks that have followed, we have tightened more than a few screws, patched and repaired 3 out of 4 tires, and adjusted our headlamps to illuminate the obstacles ahead rather than the night sky above. The tires really were secure.
We have enjoyed our new bikes thoroughly and after working out most of the kinks, they have proved integral to furthering Transformational Community Development in Hurso.

Building Blocks

2010-01-20T21:49:00.000-08:00

As you may know, one of the projects that we’ve been working on in the village is a new school for the children of Hurso. In July, a team of volunteers came to lay the foundation for the building, making a good head start on the four room schoolhouse. Unfortunately the walls weren’t finished during the initial phase of construction and when Ian and I arrived there were about 200 blocks missing from an end of the school as well as two of the middle partitions. In order to move forward, we needed to get those blocks laid and the stucco put on. So the beginning of last week we found a contractor named Habtamu and met with him to figure out the details of the project. The next morning we were bumping along the road out to Hurso with all of the materials. As soon as we pulled up we got right to work. After pounding together some rickety looking scaffolds we mixed up a big pile of goo-goo-bah which is the Amharic word for the mud/clay mixture used to lay the hollow blocks. Yes, the word was developed by kids playing with mud pies and it lends itself to songs very well. After a full day of hauling, shoveling, lifting, and goo-goo-bahing we had 190 blocks laid, all three walls completed, and we were ready for the stucco which we finished by lunchtime the following day. As the hours passed different villagers would show up and pitch in, helping carry buckets, keep the masons supplied with blocks, or mix up a fresh batch of stucco cement. I think my favorite part was when Ian and I began sanding down a couple of the metal windows. A couple of kids stuck their heads in the room and when they saw us scrubbing away a small crowd began to gather. Ian and I thought to ourselves, “If Tom Sawyer could do it, why not us?” After building it up a bit and showing them just how cool sanding really was, we passed out sandpaper and stuck two on each windowsill. Soon we had a little party going on, everyone happily sanding away, sticking their heads out the window and yelling to the kids in the next window down. It was really great working alongside our Ethiopian brothers and sisters and seeing all of the sweat pay off. We were under budget by 15% and done in half estimated time- and we managed to finish sanding and painting all of the metal doors and windows! That’s called gittin’ er done!

The Scoop on Hurso's Health

2010-01-20T21:05:00.001-08:00

Alliteration City

2009-12-21T03:16:00.000-08:00

A Motley Crew

This picture was taken immediately following the first meeting of the Happy Helping Hands of Hurso club. Unfortunately, I don’t think the name will stick. As you can tell, our colleagues are thrilled to be there!

This is the humble beginnings of the delegation designed to develop Hurso. (This post is going to be titled: Alliteration City) They are each representatives selected by the community to serve on a board that will plot the village’s course to improvement. They select the problems, they design the solutions.

From left to right, we have Bortukan, a woman of about 50, though I am too scared to ask, 2nd in command of the village, highly opinionated and very passionate. Then there’s Peter, a strapping young man of 23. To his left is Kafialo, a kind-hearted man with a wife and a new baby girl, who runs a kindergarten and was recently elected as the health representative for the village. Next is Colonel Ray. The Colonel was stationed at a military compound in Hurso for a number of years and he fell in love with the village. When he retired, he moved back to the village and took a vested interest in promoting development motivating the community. He is knowledgeable, direct, and eager to see Hurso improve. Then me: lanky, bearded, and awkwardly holding the Colonel’s hand. Finally, there’s Warku who has been working hard to finish the school for the last 4 months while also running a local restaurant. He represents the school’s interests and the role the school will play in education development in Hurso.

The meeting was scheduled to start at 9am, thus we began promptly at 11am. Peter, Alex (introduced in a previous post), and I introduced ourselves and discussed GHNI’s vision and hope for Hurso. As we began, it was clear that they had all heard these tired speeches before. NGO’s come and NGO’s go without ever helping very much. They may dig a well, truck in food, or simply drop a huge pile of cash, but Hurso is never much better off for their visit. Tales of these previous NGO’s are told by the ground littered with broken and long dried up wells. All that remains of their efforts are resilient skeletons of projects past: metal cans meant for food storage now flattened for a more functional purpose: shingles, plastic jugs meant for potable water are now lawn ornaments.

Though we expected it, it was sad to hear of past failures. As we continued to share our purpose, it was awesome to see their appearances shift. The four pair of brown eyes we spoke to began to widen, expressions softened, and excitement built. “GHNI is not here to solve your problems for you; we are here to stand side by side and help you transform yourselves. You are in charge of your development; we are not your future.”

Colonel Ray replied, “This is great! We want to take responsibility for our future; for every (dollar) you contribute, we should at least match it.”
What was most exciting to me was to see the passion in these four people. Life is hard in Hurso and the problems and pain are very real. Bortukan loved the vision, and immediately began looking far into the future and getting really angry at problems we will face then. She knew we were on the right track and didn’t want to see our progress hindered in the least bit.

In order to understand her anxiety, I offer a brief look into life in Somali villages in Ethiopia. If a Somali person offers you a service, helps you out, or answers your questions, he expects some compensation. After all, that was time he could have spent hoeing his field. So, Bortukan was upset because she suspects that if we have community wide meetings to discuss community solutions, Somali’s in attendance will expect to be paid. “We don’t have the money to pay people!”

Our American solution: Potlucks, problem-solving Potlucks.

We are excited to support this committee as they rally the community to conquer their crises, and are glad to have the opportunity to work with such enthusiastic partners, to share in their struggles, and play a part in their future.

A Story of Transformation

2009-12-17T10:48:00.000-08:00

A few days ago we had the chance to visit the town of Woliso with Zerihun as he was checking in on some GHNI projects. I was especially excited as it was a chance for me to return to the neighborhoods I had worked in and see the people I had met previously on my short term project. It was on that trip that I fell in love with Ethiopia, and now ten months later I am back. Our team of volunteers had helped to build houses for four AIDS affected families, and to construct a small store for Aschelew, a young man with a tragic story. As a teenager he lost both parents to AIDS and became suicidal. In an effort to protect him, his brother and sister tied him up in his house, cutting off the circulation to his arms which both had to be amputated above the elbow. On our February trip, our team built him and his brother a store to run, giving him the ability to help himself out of a life of begging and poverty. We had completed the framing and roofing on the buildings before our team left, but I had yet to see the finished projects.

Ian and I drove down to Woliso from Addis Ababa with Zerihun, his wife, and his two young sons, all crammed into a little Toyota corolla. When we arrived in Woliso and began weaving our way between busy townspeople, dilapidated horse carts, and scruffy donkeys, I started to pick out a few familiar sights. Zerihun announced, “We are here!” In front of us was a clean, sturdy building with a man at the store window that I suddenly recognized as Aschelew’s brother. As we walked up to the store we heard someone calling and turned around to see Aschelew hurrying towards us. He looked great! He had a huge smile and a confidence about him that I hadn’t seen before. I gave him a big hug and he invited me into his store. We looked over his merchandise, bought some snacks, and pretended to sell random items to his neighbors. It was so cool to notice the pride he had in his store and his home, and to see the positive attitude in both him and his brother. We heard from Zerihun that soon he will be receiving artificial limbs so that he will have the use of his arms back. It was amazing to see the hope that had come into Aschelew’s life and to observe the transformation of a hurting, helpless individual to a motivated, optimistic young man.

TCD in Hurso

2009-11-09T10:51:00.000-08:00

Our First Video Update!

2009-10-19T08:40:00.000-07:00

Our Story: Chapter One

2009-10-19T06:06:00.000-07:00

The Setting

Dire Dawa, Ethiopia- A city surrounded on all sides by limiting mountains: limiting travel, rainfall, and cell phone reception. The city is well planned with streets aligned to a grid, roundabouts, and paved roads, for the most part. Where there is not pavement, there is baked, hardened earth that rarely remains on the ground but rises to eye level with each passing tire, foot, or hoof. Supposedly, there is a large western population here, but after a week of roaming the streets, habitually lost, occasionally perceptive, and always exploring, we have yet to come across the elusive White westerners or “Ferengie” as they, and we, are called here.

The city bustles each day from 7am until noon and is relatively silent until 3pm, when the scorching heat subdues and life returns to the streets. There are restaurants, cafés, shops, and kiosks, and street markets all filled with friendly chatter. As we walk up and down the streets a freshly-familiar echo follows us: “Hello! Are you fine?” and “why is your name?”

We have met local businessmen, other humanitarian aid workers and students. This city serves as both our base of operations and our community and we are beginning to find our place in it.

The Characters

Zerihun Kassa- Project Manager for Ethiopia. He lives in Addis Ababa with his wife and two kids. He is nearly six feet tall and not a day over thirty-five. He used to play professional futbol and has the body to match. He has a degree in Economics and is working on a second degree in Community Development. He has a broad smile and a frequent laugh. He is a compassionate, friendly, and dedicated man with a wise and humble spirit. He is scared to death of Hyenas. He met us our first day in Addis, showed us around and helped us to get settled in Dire Dawa. He will be coming to Dire Dawa once a month to help our projects, solidify our direction, and keep us on track.

Alex- ( Alemayehu) will be our right hand man as we begin TCD projects in Hurso. He is an energetic 23-year-old Ethiopian who is living and studying business administration in Harar. He works with Great Commission Ministries in the Harar and assists with their ministry in the northeastern region of Ethiopia. He has partnered with Zerihun over the past couple of years as GHNI has started projects in Woliso, Hurso, and other areas. His English is limited but good - he can converse about macroeconomics and competitive advantage but certain basic words can throw him for a loop, like “river.” He is single but apparently working on a girlfriend in Dire Dawa, which may make his visits here more frequent. He is excited about learning more English from us and is looking forward to being a part of the TCD work in Hurso.

Siggi- Our landlord is a tall, lanky, soft-spoken Swiss man with a heavy German accent, and so far he’s been an invaluable resource in learning about life here in Dire Dawa. He studied agriculture in his home country but seems to be gifted in everything he tries. He’s lived in northeastern Africa for nearly 25 years including Djibouti, Somalia, and different regions of Ethiopia. Although he is incredibly modest, we’ve learned that he can speak at least 7 languages and is a self- taught carpenter, tile worker, electrician, plumber, mechanic, machinist and musician. He’s used his talents over the past 3 years to construct the beautiful hotel compound that we’re staying in, each room a unique work of art custom designed and built with hand-crafted materials. He is one of the most patient, humble guys you’ll ever meet, with a big grin and a booming laugh to match. He has a wife, Kadera, who is a beautiful Ethiopian woman that is every bit as intelligent and linguistically talented as Siggi, and two young boys that love him to death.

Welcome to Blog Hurso!

2009-10-08T02:34:00.000-07:00

Hey! This is where you can follow Ian and I as we spend a year in Hurso, Ethiopia. For those of you who aren't familiar with what what we are doing, here's a little bit of background.

Ian and I are interning for a year with Global Hope Network International(GHNI) in the northeastern part of Ethiopia in a small village called Hurso. GHNI is a Geneva-based humanitarian organization that is works with some of the poorest people groups in the world, helping villages transform themselves through sustainable development. Their TCD(Transformational Community Development) training and curriculum fosters ownership by using locally-available resources and takes a holistic approach to development in order to create a healthy community.

Our role in Hurso will be to work with GHNI's Ethiopian staff as we train and equip local leaders to begin development projects and help bring their village out of poverty. Ian and I will be regularly posting on our progress, so check in to hear the latest stories from Hurso.