Transition Time

John and Holly Blosser Yoder, and their family, are now safely home in Iowa and Wanda and I are now the Country Reps for MCC in an official capacity. There was no special swearing in ceremony, no pomp and circumstance. John and Holly just barely made in on to their flight. The good folks at British Airways held the flight while Ethiopian officials argued that John couldn’t leave without showing his work permit. In the early morning Mekonnen and Yeshi rushed back to the office to get the demanded document but it was clear they wouldn’t make it back before the flight was scheduled to leave. Praying hard, Yeshi pleaded with the official and then his boss, to let them go. She promised to bring them the permit, they were only minutes away. And the boss said yes! One last brush with bureaucracy, a fitting ending in some ways.

So what does one do in that first week in office? We had just spent two weeks with John and Holly in a whirlwind of activity, meeting important folks who we will be working with in the future. It all felt overwhelming. Where do you start? Start simply, start slowly. Recover from the frantic pace. Sign papers at the bank to authorize our signatures on checks. Register at the Canadian and US embassies. Deal with money transactions as they come through the office. Learn how to get around the city. Where the grocery stores are. The churches are.

Ah, the embassy visits. A study in contrasts. First to the Canadian embassy. Like all embassies there was a high wall with barbed wire on the top. There were guards at the entrance and security procedures. When we showed the guard our passports he told us to go over to the metal door in the wall and we were let in. We went through a metal detector and had to leave our cell phone and Wanda’s purse. The guards were relaxed and friendly, almost apologetic for using the wand on us. They smiled at our girls and clipped visitor passes on our tops. We walked the grounds of the embassy unescorted to the office to register. The grounds reminded us of home; a well manicured grounds with evenly cut grass (grass is hand cut here with the cuttings sold). The guards showed our little family to the door and by their smiles and friendly gestures it seemed that they were thanking us for coming.

Then we went to the U.S. embassy. Mekonnen, chauffeuring us on that morning, pointed out the embassy as he drove past. No stopping here. Huge cement blocks lined the high wall of the embassy. Electronic surveillance. Nervous guards who yelled and pointed their guns at anyone slowing down or stopping their vehicles within a ½ block of the compound. The sidewalk was closed on the embassy side of the street. One needed to park a block away and walk on the opposite side of the street then cross. I flashed my U.S. passport and we went through the same screening as before. But there was to be no walking the grassy compound. Once inside the walls, we could see the beautiful grounds from beyond a iron gate but we were let to offices just inside the walls. The guard with the large machine gun scowled and waved me upstairs to the consulate room. It was a large sterile room with the smiling faces of George Bush, Dick Cheney and Condolezza Rice looking down on us (sorta reminded me of the faces on Cirith Ungol in The Lord of the Rings). The guards were unsmiling but fortunately the workers behind the teller windows were kind and helpful. Good to know some people can act friendly in this fortress (like Americans I know and love).

So the transition is complete. Well not yet. Not until we can drive the vehicles. Not until we can converse in Amharic. Not until we can find our way around Addis and to our partners locations. Not until we learn and master the MCC International Development Database and all the financial accounting that comes with it. Not until we master grant writing, and we can teach our partners the skill. Not until we become comfortable in our relationships with our partners and this culture. Come to think of it, our transition may never be fully completed . . .