Wednesday in Amsterdam

Something was happening that made us suspicious. Or maybe superstitious. Why, from the moment we landed, were there a series of 'firsts' or 'rarities' in Almere and Amsterdam? Why, for example, the moment we landed, Bob was late (actually he met us on time but he had planned to be at Schiphol much earlier) because the trains were not running that day? Why was there an unusual heat wave in the 90's/ 40's (only 3 days long however) that was as rare in the Netherlands as snow is in Ethiopia? Why, when Bob and I went to his local store in the morning to buy a few breakfast items, was there no milk or eggs or other products due to 'logistic complications'? Why was there another break in the train service on Tuesday, another singular event quite out of the norm?

Could we be the ones who made all this dysfunction happen? Could we be jinxing Holland? We laughed about this with Bob & Miriam but on Wednesday we couldn't help but wonder why us, why now? We planned our tour of Amsterdam and made sure we had our transport cards to get us around on the trams and buses, but soon after we said good-bye to Bob at Centraal Station hecame back to tell us that the trams and buses were all on strike, we would have to walk until 3 p.m.! A walking tour. Ok, we'll do that. So we headed up the main thorough fare north towards Dam Square, taking it easy. No need to hurry now. Our plans changed. No Rijks Museum, too far for the family to walk. We'll try the Anne Frank house. We made it there but after the noon hour and there was a line up. We had been told it could take up to an hour to get in and we hadn't eaten yet so we gave up going on this day. Maybe the next time we are in Amsterdam. We decided to walk to the 'Kalver Toren' (calf tower) and down into the shopping district. I found Singel Kerk along the way, went in, made a note of it, and went back to the family.

Lunch was McDonalds. Hey the family hadn't had McDonalds in a while. We then toured the flower market and then on up the street to the Doopsgezinde Singel Kerk, the hidden church of the Anabaptists in the 17^th century. It was being used by a group of graduates who were singing in preparation for graduation. The acoustics were wonderful. The benches were old and somewhat in disrepair. No one sits in the balconies any more. Too bad. Maybe we will on the Sunday (July 10) when the First Mennonite Church in Winnipeg sings there.

We continued to Dam Square again, wearing down as the afternoon wore on. Feet were sore, bodies were tired. People filled the streets, talk about diversity! An amazing sight to behold; young and old, all nationalities and ethnic groups, gays and goths, upper class going to a theatre, lower class in anarchist t-shirts. The trams were running again and so people were getting around. We finally made our way back to the station, found the right train and headed back to Almere, tired but full of memory of the day.

Tuesday in Menno Land

All day Monday we discussed whether, because of the weather forecast, we should head up to Friesland on Tuesday to Witmarsum and Pingjum. Heavy rain and possibly hail. In the end we said we would. It turned out to be the hottest day of the year in the Netherlands; sunny, humid and hot. We drove from Almere through Amsterdam, up through Zaandam on the west side of the country to the earthen dike that holds back the North Sea and has a beautiful 4 lane highway on it connecting the west to the east side of the country.

Our friends, Jan & Ineke Terbiyhe were to meet us in Witmarsum at noon. Bob & Miriam were kind enough to offer their Ford Fiesta to us for the day. This gave us a flexibility we would not have had otherwise. Driving in the Netherlands was a pleasure in spite of the heat (better get used to it, I thought, this is like North America).

We met our friends in Witmarsum at the church in town on Menno Simonsstraat. We couldn't get into that church (which apparently is Mennonite) but Jan found the pastor of the Reformed church up the street who let us into his church where a special 5 month long display on Mennonites was happening. A photographer had put together photos of current Mennonites in the Netherlands with their personal stories. I wish I could report that the Mennonite church in the Netherlands is thriving and growing but alas, all reports are that the age of the congregations is old and the sizes are small. Many predict they will be gone in a generation. That would truly be a shame in the land where Menno Simons was born.

We ate lunch out of town at the Menno Simons monument/ park. It is a modest place with the metal frame of a church that once stood there, the church Menno preached in. The scenery was wonderful however. The Dutch/ Frisian countryside all around us with the smell of fresh hay in the air. The whole scene was pastoral. Dairy farms and houses, fields of cattle and hay and crops. Probably the other sensation, besides the country smell was the sound of silence, so quiet and peaceful. I wanted to stay.

It had become a warm but now cloudy day. A metal framed picnic table was available and we shared a packed lunch together. Our girls couldn't remember when Jan & Ineke visited us in St. Catharines, nor our connection so we reminded them that I met them in Cairo, Egypt a long time ago when they were working there and I was with MCC. We went to the same church, International Church of Cairo.

After lunch we headed for Pingjum to see where the hidden church of the Anabaptists was. Inside we found a small group of people in a workshop. Mennonites from the Netherlands and from Honduras meeting. I enjoyed a short visit with a man from Honduras during their tea break.

In both towns what struck me was their 'emptiness'. It was midday but almost no one was about. No hustle and bustle on this 'normal' Tuesday. Another thing that struck me was the number of 'Te Koop'/ For Sale signs all around, both houses and businesses. What was going on? I thought, if I had the money, I would love to buy one of these houses and come and live here. I could be wrong about the town, it is possibly like small towns all over the world in that they would not welcome an outsider among them. But you never know.

We drove to the town of Sneek (pronounced 'snake') to for a break before we parted ways. The girls saw an ice cream place and so we ended up with ice cream instead of coffee. Jan & Ineke graciously insisted on paying for the ice cream. Sneek is a strategic spot where they could drive back to their home directly and we could take the road south back to Almere. So we said a fond good-bye and parted ways.

It was after we got back that the storm hit that evening. Winds, rain and eventually cooler weather prevailed. Holland was feeling like it should feel.

The Canal Boat Ride

The previous 48 hours had been such a whirlwind that we needed a break on Monday. We just hung out at Bob & Miriam's home in Almere and visited their local shopping area, about a 10 minute walk. Resting and relaxing are part of the vision for being here.

The girls enjoyed the walk and seeing the area. Just visiting the shopping area was a delight for them. It was a hot and sunny day and in some ways it was a shame to waste it not doing a tourist thing but in the end it helped all of us unwind just a bit.

Bob & Miriam suggested a canal boat ride which was a great idea. Miriam thought that we would enjoy the ride at dusk when the lights of the city come on. Unfortunately that would be around 10:30 p.m. these summer days. But we headed down around 5 p.m. to hang out at a restaurant and meet Leslie, their daughter. The sun was at the height of its intensity making all who were out and about gradually wilt. It became apparent that we weren't going to make it to 10:30 so we took at canal boat ride in the sunshine at 8. It may have been evening but there was nothing dark about it.

The canal ride took us past the old houses from Holland's Golden Age to famous landmarks of yesterday and today. We enjoyed our time and arrived home late that night. It seems that every night we stay up late, can't help it. The light is out so late we can't sleep. Slowly our internal clocks are getting used to the change.

Sunday in the Park

The weather slowly began to break on Sunday, moving from cool and rainy to cloudy and eventually to warm. We saw Miriam for the first time (she was in a weekend workshop) and had a chance to catch up, albeit only a bit. She was off to the workshop and we were off to their church, Crossroads. Bob drove us back to Amsterdam from Almere which was an easy drive on Sunday morning.

Crossroads is a rarity in the Netherlands, a church that is growing. Approximately 500 people attend each of the three worship services for a total of 1500. The church rents out a high school auditorium with electronic capacity for sound and video. Bob & Miriam told us that most Sundays have a routine but on this Sunday the church would have very different services. A Ugandan children's choir sang and danced with an energy rarely seen in churches in the north. There was a memoriam for a woman in the congregation who had died earlier in the week. There was a baby dedication. A young leader of the church leadership team preached. It was all well done.

We met with a friend, Naomi, who attends the church but is also Ethiopian-Japanese. We had attended her wedding in Addis when she married our friend Araya. She is in Amsterdam looking for a job back in Addis but will be returning in a couple of weeks. We enjoyed meeting up with her, seeing her in her context (she grew up in Holland).

Bob took us then to Zaandam to a tourist park to see the few windmills that were left standing and running. The area once had up to 1000 windmills 300 years ago in what Bob described as the first industrial park in the world. Located right on the Zaan river, the windmills used the wind and the water to power industry. It was the rise of the English industrial revolution with steam and engines that led to the rapid downfall. At some point the city fathers agreed to preserve a remnant of the windmills as a memorial to a lost way of life. Today it is a tourist park with the windmills grinding oil seeds, colored rocks and materials for paint colors and other uses.

The entire time we toured the scent of chocolate was in the air. Across the river in the town of Zaandam a factory was busy making chocolate. What an added treat to the senses!

By now the weather had changed. Sunny and hot and humid. We had shed our outer layers and were looking for shade where we could. The girls were all eyes and ears as we saw how wooden shoes are made, how cheese is made (we saw mostly the end product) and how the colored paint dyes were ground and made. Bob kept the tour lively and enjoyable. We lunched on Dutch pancakes which are as big as a dinner plate with various toppings on them, ranging from meat and cheese to sugar and spice. By the end of the afternoon we were tired but happy with our first tour. Memorable.

Flight and Arrival

The song from Kim Thiessen's album 'Welcome the traveler home' went through my head a couple of times on the journey from Addis to Amsterdam. We were weary and light headed because we were traveling at such odd hours. I had not laid down to sleep, only catnapped and I found that my body doesn't do well with only that kind of sleep.

We landed in the early morning in Cairo and hung out at the airport for several hours. Cairo has a large modern airport, certainly in the top 3 of all African airports (South Africa has several world class airports). Addis Ababa has one of the top 10 airports in Africa but certainly isn't as big or as sophisticated.

We managed to eat something and wait out the boarding process. They took us by airport bus to the farthest corner of the airport in the heat of the morning. Finally we were off for our flight to Amsterdam.

The entire flight was in the sunshine above the clouds. We began to descend in the sunshine but the clouds were so low we didn't start going through them until we were almost on the ground (it felt that way, anyways). We landed in a misty, cold, rainy Amsterdam.

We were overjoyed to be in Amsterdam so the weather was the least of our concerns. What about passport control? No problem, she waved us through. What about our luggage? Every piece was present and accounted for. What about customs? No problem, the lady waved us through as well. What about finding Bob or Miriam to greet us? We didn't see anyone familiar as we passed through the sliding doors but within a minute I saw a familiar figure walking toward us. It was Bob. Such a smooth transition must mean we are no longer at Bole Airport, back in a world of sophisticated security and for that we were awed and grateful.

Bob had arranged for a van to pick us up with our luggage. As we were waiting we could look around in wonder at the Schiphol Airport with its restaurants and shopping areas, connections with trains, trams and buses. Amazing transportation coordination. We bought transport cards for all of us so we could travel on public transportation. An excellent band started playing in the

corner of the large space which attracted the girls (amazing violin and clarinet players!). Eventually the van came, the driver was a bit stunned by all the luggage but we got everything in the van, including us and within a half hour we were in Almere at the Phillips home.

It may have been cold and rainy but I was enjoying it. Holland in summer at its normal best. The countryside zipped by with a combination of city structures and field after field with dairy cattle. Water was everywhere. Fields are cordoned off by large ditches of water. There are bogs and swamps. Not a surprise since the Dutch have tamed the sea and live below sea level. Still it is amazing.

If I had to choose hosts for our time in Holland, Bob & Miriam would be the perfect choices. I'm not only saying this because they are family but because they can translate so well. They can, as North Americans and native English speakers who have lived in Holland for 18 years, translate the culture as well as the language. Bob is a fount of knowledge about the language and culture, a tour guide first class. He has a very warm and engaging personality which makes him good at his calling (missionary). But living in Holland for 18 years gives him perfect view as an outside observer of a culture that those born into a culture cannot have.

So Bob & Mim 'welcomed the travelers home', a real blessing to those who were tired physically and emotionally.

Wrapping up in Addis

Saying good-bye means saying it over and over again until you are wrung out of emotion and tears. Each good-bye gets harder. We met with almost all of our MCC partners and all of our friends. We said good-bye to our friends with quiet dinners at our home, at Glenda's birthday party, when we went out to eat with friends. We visited partners who feted us with pop and popcorn, kolo and gifts.

Many kind words were said about us. After 4 years of feeling unsure if we were making a difference in people's lives it was truly an affirmation. It's hard not to thank people without becoming emotional, to pray without emotion. So yes, I became emotional.

Many of the tributes come back to my mind as I think back to the final two weeks but probably the two the stand out were the farewell from MKC RDA and the farewell from our staff and workers. Very different tributes but the same responses. RDA people said over and over again, thank you for supporting us in our time of crisis. Thank you for being a voice of justice. It felt good to know that they recognized our support during their leadership crisis. The farewell from our staff and workers was similar yet different. Over and over we heard that they very much appreciated our concern about their wages and being able to sustain a living as inflation and the devaluation of the Birr caused much economic hardship in the lives of the people across Ethiopia. We adjusted the pay scale to make it fair and logical. We continued to offer holiday bonuses to our workers which was greatly appreciated. But mostly they said they will miss us. They will miss our daughters. They genuinely liked working at MCC and that felt good. Our housekeeper Yeshi, who we will miss greatly, talked about us being her mentor in the kitchen as well as in parenting (she is still single). Others talked about how our Christian witness was consistent, we were who we said we were. Funny, I sure didn't feel that I was that. I screwed up so many times in my mind. Mekonnen said that I was a partner in fighting for justice, that felt good. Many mentioned Wanda as being a model for women, using the passage from Proverbs of a wise woman. Someone who makes good decisions, who is good at oikos (financial/economic decisions). Another person mentioned how our three daughters treated everyone (the guards, the staff, the housekeepers) with respect. That was a proud moment for me, respect did not go unnoticed.

As the days passed and the countdown continued I could not envision myself not living in that house, not driving in Addis, not seeing the people I was used to seeing, not feeding the dogs and cats everyday. I could not envision the finality of it all. Even as we were saying good bye and packing all our bags, my mind wanted to see this as another trip somewhere with our return inevitable. Our time in Addis was reality, our imminent departure surreal.

And yet here we were packing. I also envisioned having uninterrupted time to pack for that last week. Of course it didn't work out that way. There was always one more good-bye to be said. Wanda had hoped that she would have all day Friday to pack, in the end she was out most of the day and by nightfall was still packing her suitcase. I had done most of the packing and weighing (thanks to our invaluable little aid, an electronic weight scale for luggage). We thought that we would have room because we were leaving behind books and clothes. Nope. In the end we had to rely on the grace of friends who offered to take suitcases with them. Our friends Loren and Glenda both offered to take a suitcase to Harrisonburg, Virginia. Our friends Fanosie Legesse and John Peters are each taking a suitcase to Ontario. Our friends Rick & Alyson took some breakable Ethiopian art with them that would have most likely have broken had we tried to take it. We left some things behind as well but for the most part we were able to take most of our 'stuff' home. We traveled with our requisite 10 pieces plus 5 carry-ons (15 pieces is a lot of luggage! Try it sometime) and sent 4 pieces with others, wow!

Our last night in Addis was exhausting. We were exhausted at saying good bye all day long, running around town all day long, wrapping up loose ends in the office until closing time. Finally everyone went home and our dear friend Glenda came over for a last supper together. That helped take the edge off even if it was sad to think of saying good bye to her. But we agreed we didn't have to do that yet since we were planning to be in Harrisonburg at her house there at the beginning of August.

The girls went to bed and slept, Wanda laid down too but I didn't think I should lest I be too groggy. I tried to watch a movie and fall asleep but I was way too wired to do so. Unfortunately right at the end of the movie my eyes finally wanted to shut but no, it was time to go. So I was groggy at midnight trying to get everyone up, moving luggage out the door and off Bole International. Mekonnen greeted us there and helped us move everything into the airport (with special airport authority permission). We got the large woven basket barrel wrapped with a saran wrap plastic and managed to get everything checked in. The Egypt Air manager gave us a bit of a hard time with our girls carry-ons (never a problem before) but was satisfied to let my carry-on go underneath. I was too tired to remember I had a valuable camera and a fragile Ethiopian coffee pot (jeminah) in it. Somehow nothing was taken and the jeminah didn't break (are you kidding me?).

In the dead of night in Addis Ababa we were processed through and in the darkest hour before dawn (4 a.m.) we departed. Tired and weary, out of tears and sorrow, only wanting to make it to Amsterdam with all of us, and all our stuff, intact.

The Busy Season is Over

This past week we said good-bye to the next CR's as well as an MCC'er, Megan. It marked the end of a busy time for MCC Ethiopia and Wanda & I. Starting with the visit of my parents and sister in December we have been hosting or trying to keep up with the demands of the job for 7 months. For the first time since November (and maybe even further back than that) we can finally breathe again.

People who know us know we enjoy hosting so this wasn't a trial in that sense. But when you combine the high season of MCC work (January-February is reporting and budget time and March-April is EARM travel and hosting supervisor time) with special hosting, yep it was a lot of work. But along the way we were privileged to host Steve Yoder and his son Levi as they trekked for 6 months across East Africa and the Middle East, we enjoyed visiting with Craig Schloneger and Melissa Hand of Ten Thousand Villages as they visited artisans and sellers to TTV here in Addis, we saw our friend Bruce Guenther again as he helped us out of a PME jam (writing a proposal with our partners for CIDA funding), we met our successors Dan & Karin as they spent 7 weeks in language and orientation.

We hosted our final Mennogroup and to some we said goodbye for we probably won't see them again. Others have said they'll stop by for one more goodbye. We led our final worship service together on June 5 that included communion. I led my final church council as church chair, happy to be giving up the reins to another person. We said goodbye to friends who left in the past month for home (be it in Europe or NA).

I was happy to say goodbye to my good friend Loren Hostetter because it meant that he was healthy and free of injury. Our family and friends heard from us about the horrific accident that Loren was involved in at the beginning of May (the same weekend that we were in Harar). His vehicle was totaled, he was scraped up but amazingly nothing more than minor bumps and bruises, thanks to the air bag and seat belt. But he hit a donkey cart with 3 men on it. Two of the men were killed and another badly injured. Loren's external scars healed quickly but his internal ones will take longer. A number of us friends went with him to spend a day with the two families who lost their loved ones. One was a single young man and the other was a father of 6 children. Negotiations were held (between elders representing the families and elders representing Loren), reparations were made by Loren to the two families and the injured man and we witnessed an amazing grace in spite of the pain of loss.

Loren left for the States at the beginning of June to see his wife Glenda after a month apart and to see his oldest daughter graduate from EMHS. Of course I was sad to see him go but the joy was that he was fine. As the people of Arsi Negelle said, it wasn't his time.

So we have been checking events off our list over the last month. When we are finished hosting an event or people, even as we have mixed feelings about this being the 'last time' we also have said quietly to ourselves, 'check that off the list'. And our load is lessened, our burden is lighter.

There's not much work or school left. All that is left is to say the final goodbyes and finish packing.

Harar

It was our last long distance trip outside of Addis Ababa. Harar, an ancient walled city, known as the fourth holiest city in Islam. It is said that when persecution of Muslims on the Arabian peninsula caused them to flee the people of this city welcomed them. We spent 4 days (May 5-8) of our time on this adventure.

Our entire MCC team flew to Dire Dawa, a nearby city to Harar. It was a combination cultural trip and a rest and relaxation trip. The warm air of an arid land awaited us as we disembarked from the Ethiopian airlines twin prop Bombardier aircraft. The airport was outside the city but in a short time our transport had us at the Hotel Samrat. Owned by Indian entrepreneurs, it was nice enough although we found small battles the entire weekend over noise. We were put on the 4^th floor and it seems that the 5^th floor still needed to be worked on. Work crews started pounding away in the morning so I had to make many visits to the front desk and finally the owner. Even after he told them to stop within a half an hour they had started again. There was also a pool, nice enough although the color was more green than clear. A number of locals came and swam as well.

But what we came to see was Harar. Friday was 'Harar Day' for us. We drove from Dire Dawa to Harar, a drive that took over an hour. We drove through a number of busy towns as well as through the semi arid land until we hit the outskirts of the city.

The ancient walls of Harar still stand although with some modern reinforcements. If you want to read more about the city you can go to this website: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harar The city has grown beyond the walls as well. We walked the narrow and winding city streets for the day. The city was built on a hill thus many of the streets are as hilly as San Francisco streets. Our driver left us off in what was the closest to the center of town (ancient cities rare were neatly planned, urban sprawl was normal). Dozens of young men eagerly awaited us hoping to be asked to be the tour guide for our group of 20.

We walked first to the house of one of the first Europeans to live in the city; a French arms merchant and poet named Arthur Rimbaud. His poetry seems along the lines of Samuel Coleridge but he was active in the city in the 1880's. His house was built on one of the high points of the city where it could overlook the town and beyond. With 3 stories it was unique for its time. The house is now a museum with the French having contributed for it's upkeep. Photos from that time period were blown up, organized and nicely placed throughout the house. There were writings and poems of his also blown up to read on the wall. If you want to read more about him go to this website: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rimbaud

Our meals (lunch and supper) were at restaurants that surely cater to tourists, what was the giveaway? English menus and 'ferenj' food (mostly Italian). We spent time wandering the streets, some of the women and girls went to get henna designs on their arms and legs. Some of us went to the Christian gate and market place which had some similarities with the Khan il Khalili market in Cairo (the Khan is much bigger, more organized and obviously wealthier, but they both have narrow alleyways bursting with small vendors of spices and all kinds of goods. They also have covered alleys as well).

But the highlight was surely the feeding of the hyenas after nightfall. We were told to meet the 'Hyena Man' on the outskirts of town at dusk. So our drivers drove us through narrow alleyways, out past the gate and into an open area. There about a dozen hyenas were laying about. A man came with a bucket of meat scraps and instantly the hyenas jumped up and began milling about him. Our 2 vans kept their lights on so we could see the spectacle. Immediately he motioned for someone to come and help him feed the hyenas. Slowly we went, one by one, out to where the hyenas were. Some stayed back the entire time. Wanda said 'no' but I went out as well as MCCers. Our Ethiopian friends refused to go near. But now we can say that we fed the hyenas in Harar.