After riding for over an hour on small but well adorned horses, led by Feleke's brothers Simee and Derege, we finally made it to the village of Dafe Jema. Our group included my son Thomas, our friend and translator Million, and our driver (and world traveling geophysicist) Shimeless. Near the end of the horse ride, I actually began to recognize landmarks from the pictures Steven Weinberg had taken during his visit earlier in the year. And as we turned the corner at the top of the plateau, we could see Feleke's house several hundred yeards in the distance, encircled by that same fence we saw on Google Earth a few months before. And there, in the middle of everything, was the honey tree.
Even from that distance Feleke could be identified among the ten or fifteen people loitering around the outside of the main house. He was wearing his bright blue "Angry Birds" t-shirt, the one he had picked out before leaving Ann Arbor. When he saw us rounding the corner, he strolled over to meet us with a big smile on his face. It was the perfect greeting given the situation. He was in an awkward position. He was leaving his family to come to the United States to live with a bunch of Americans. He was happy to see us, content to be coming back to the United States, and pleased that we would finally meet his Ethiopian family. But he was also sad to be leaving his home and his family, and he was sensitive to their feelings. Throughout the day, and in the days to come, I was impressed by his ability to manage the interaction between us and them. He struck exactly the right balance between host and son and sibling and ambassador.
For one example, when we arrived in the village, Feleke's father offered Thomas a beer. I should say that, although Thomas only recently turned 16, his over 6'4" tall. Before I could say a work, Feleke spoke a few words of Amharic quietly to his father, and his father took the beer away. Shimeless overheard that conversation and then looked over at me. "Feleke is a very smart boy. He just said to his father: Don't let Thomas's height deceive you. He is a boy." Well put.
Inside the main house, the family had prepared a seat of honor for us, a place where we could sit while we received guests. It was a bench inside their new house, a house that was still under construction and was at least partially funded with some of the money that had been sent earlier in the year to help replace the oxen. On that bench they had spread a couple of blankets, including the University of Michigan blanket that Susan Weinberg (Steven's mom) had given to Feleke. Once we had taken our seats, they brought in food to go along with the beer. It was "doro wat," a spicy Ethiopian dish made with chicken. Thomas and I agreed it was the best doro wat we had ever tasted, and over the last seven months we have had some good doro wat. The dish was also special because the family happened to be fasting at the time of our visit and therefore could not eat meat. So, as we ate plate after plate of doro wat (they kept refilling our plates), they sat and ate shiro wat, which is made of a sort of chick pea paste, along with onions and lots of Ethiopian spices.
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| This is the new house. Not yet finished, but this is where they entertained us.This picture allows us to see how these structures are built--first wooden poles and roof, then mud on the outside. |
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| The seat of honor. |
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| Me and Biru. The two dads, with the honey tree in the background to the left. |
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| Me with Kibinish and Bayush. |
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| Million, me, Thomas, and Shimeless chowing down on some doro wat. |
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| Thomas showing Addisu how the Ipad works. Feleke with brother Derege and a friend of the family. |
After eating, we handed out gifts. Feleke had brought with him two suitcases full of clothes for the family and their friends, all of which he had distributed the week before, when he had first arrived in Dafe Jema. Thomas and I brought only a few more items. Michigan t-shirts for the brothers. Colorful and soft t-shirts from Target for the girls. We also brought a soccer ball and a solar powered radio for the family, along with a bunch of little drawstring backpacks, donated by friends in the US, for all of the children in the family and village. They were all pleased to receive their gifts.
Another part of the event was the taking of pictures. Everyone seemed honored to meet us, and even more honored to have a photograph taken with us, even though they knew they most likely would never see the pictures again. So we took lots of pictures with various combinations of us and them.
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| The whole crew. Big family. |
We also took care of some business. Back in the States, Ruth Ann and I were in the middle of the guardianship process in the Washtenaw County Probate Court, and we were expecting to meet soon with the Probate Judge to request a formal decision giving us full legal guardianship. Feleke's family had already told us that this is what they wanted, and the process was going smoothly. The one document we lacked, and which the court had told us to get, was something signed by the mom saying that she wanted us to be named guardians of Feleke and that she understood that she was waiving her rights to appear in the Washtenaw County courthouse to address the guardianship question. All of our documents had been signed by Biru, but nothing had been signed by Elfinish, the mom. After explaining the nature of the document to her, and watching her nod her head and say yes in Oromifa, we inked her finger and had her make her mark on the document.
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| Million helps Elfinish make her mark on the document for the Michigan court. |
Elfinish, at least that's the best English rendering I can muster of what they tell me her name is, seemed a little healthier to me in person than she had in pictures I'd seen. But still she did not look well. And Feleke is worried about her. She complains of various pains in her neck and throat and sometimes in her chest. Feleke got his father to promise that, if we would pay the transportation and medical costs, he would take Elfinish in for a medical exam. Later in the week, after we got back to Addis, I called our friend whose father owns a private hospital in Adama, and she agreed to facilitate this. She will pay for the exam, and then I can reimburse her. Elfinish has given birth to and raised eleven children, including Feleke. She deserves a good medical exam.
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Mama grinds the coffee. Emebet minds the coffee pot over the coals. Kibinish and Bayush looking on.
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During our visit in Dafe Jema, I also was able to spend some time with Biru, who went to great lengths both to thank us and to express how happy they were that Feleke was living with us. He said several times that Feleke was now ours, that we should raise him as American. Elfinish concurred with this, again with nods and words in Oromo. Biru also thanked us repeatedly for making the long journey and said that he would be happy to see us again sometime, but that we shouldn't feel obligated to make regular trips to Ethiopia. He understood that the cost of getting there was very high. He also toasted us a couple of times with the local wine, at least I think those were toasts. Glasses were raised; wine and beer were drunk. The oldest brother, Simee (the police officer), occasionally made eye contact with me and nodded. I know he doesn't speak English, but it was if he was communicating with me nonverbally in English--saying something like: "I know all of this is kind of crazy. It's crazy to us too. But it's all going to be okay." Maybe that's just what I wanted him to be saying.
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| The two dads after a couple of beers. |
Our original plan had been to spend the night in Dafe Jema. That would have given us time to visit Feleke's school and his favorite hangouts. But our driver needed to get back to Addis, so our visit could last no longer than a couple of hours. Therefore, after lunch and coffee, we told Feleke to retrieve his backpack and whatever he was taking back with him and get ready to go. He actually left most of what he had brought to the village, including most of his clothes, and his new watch, which he gave to one of his sisters. Saying goodbye was very difficult and emotional for everyone. It was especially hard for Feleke and his sisters. Bayush, Kibinish, and Emebet were all in tears. Feleke was close to tears, and may have cried some though it was hard to tell. He kept his composure, though he seemed deeply sad. I asked him again, are you sure you want to go with us. And he nodded, yes.
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| Sad picture. Feleke has just said goodbye to his sisters. In the process he must have given his new watch to Bayush. |
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| Mounting up for the ride to the car. |
Feleke's brothers helped him up on a horse, and then they led our group--Thomas,Shimeless, Million, and me--back down the hill and across the fields, back along the narrow path leading away from Dafe Jema. This time Biru went with us, and he led us straight through the river on our horses, who did not seem to care that the water was up to their haunches. They led us all the way back to our car, and said goodbye. As we got into the car to drive away, Biru mounted the horse I had been riding and gestured for us to take his picture. I think he realized this would be a picture that Feleke would someday treasure--his father on a horse, dignified and in charge, almost majestic. We pulled away and headed back to Addis.
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| Biru |
