5:17 am and I am awake. My beautiful friend I am lying here thinking of you while wondering why I couldn’t sleep the last hour. There is a bird echoing in this room. She is somewhere near my window singing a high stwweet-ta-stweet-ta-stweet- and then low doot-to-doot-to-doot, and every other refrain or so a couple of short bursts. Very rhythmic. I wonder what it is she seems so intent on. She is not unhappy, not angry, but determined.
The sky opened up a few minutes ago. Enormous bucket of water pounded the ceiling. I forgot how loud that can be here. Can’t hear a thing when that is happening. They really needed rain. It was so dry. I am feeling much better now. When I get to work I will be trying to help edit some material for a follow up to a grant proposal. The Ethiopians talk in circles a lot, especially when they are unsure of what it is that is being asked of them. They know everything backwards and forwards but seem to lack a confidence in just stating an answer. It can get very confusing.
A bit about Jose Miguel. When I finally saw him, (when I arrived he was out and I went to sleep, then got up before he did, then came back and slept before he came back, and then I went into the field) so this last Saturday morning I left him a note saying I was going to the Dama hotel to try and skype with you, and he came in and he picked me up and let out all this Spanish accented “My friend, F.L. I thought I had lost you, how are you? How is your family? How is your girls? Your wife? It is so good to see you? What are you doing? I have to go fix my car? Let me pick you up for lunch?” all in one breath. The staff thought it was a riot. So did I. He works for the Spanish Embassy as a Development officer. He can be very serious. Sunday he took care of me. He made rice and divided it into two bowls and put it in the fridge for later. He went out and looked for Gatorade like stuff and ended up going across town and getting two packets of a Spanish electrolyte powder from another friend. I had yours that you sent me with, smart woman you are. Every hour or so while he was out he texted me to see how I was doing.
When he returned, he returned with Solomon a friend of his who is deaf and mute. Solomon can read lips, and write excellent English. This is Jose Miguel. He met Solomon at church and somehow became his friend. Solomon is a smart guy, 20, I think he said. At one point Jose Miguel couldn’t find his phone, Solomon pantomimed driving the car and putting it beside him. That’s where it was. So Jose Miguel has taken Solomon around Ethiopia as a friend. Together they went way south to see the nomadic tribes. Solomon was Jose Miguel’s guide. Jose described going to the market or shopping with Solomon saying that Solomon would bargain for him, point out places not to go because of poor quality or flea infested clothing. Really amazing. Since there isn’t a lot of work here period, those with handicaps have it even harder as one can imagine, so Jose Miguel is helping him with trying to get into college to study teaching deaf mutes.
One more thing about Jose Miguel, as it is so pervasive. The flea collar was Jose’s idea. The guard dog here is a yellow curled furred mutt about 30 lbs. It has the crazy high pitch angry bark like Stella, so tell her she is not alone. Jose Miguel plays with him. I think his owners only beat him. Dogs have it rough here. So Jose makes a point of being kind to it.
I am surrounded at once by so much that could be desperate and so much that could be saint like, and it is all considered normal. What a strange reality.
I miss you and the girls very much. I think of you all the time. The birds are singing a happier song now. I guess because the rain has stopped and there is a glimmer of sun. Or they just peeked in the window and are laughing at the guy who was awake too early. What they don’t know is that while I may be laughable, I made one good decision in my life, you.
Yours,
F.L.
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