we are here:

Where that red marker is - the small town of Jinka, in the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and People's Region (SNNPR) of Ethiopia. Seventeen different ethnic groups live here, "together in love" as a local friend told me :) The region is so different from mainstream "habesha" Ethiopia, from the geography to the cultures. It's breathtakingly beautiful - you can only arrive overland, and our bus ride was stunning. Gorgeous mountains and valleys covered with positively fluorescent green trees. It's hard to describe accurately, and I'm afraid the bus we were on was crowded to the hilt, and thus pictures were difficult to get :) Will try better on the way back.

I'm here for my research, and Toni kindly came along as my protector. (ha!) I'm trying to see how healthcare systems developed in these more "remote" areas of the country. The whole region was virtually handed over to foreign missionaries by Haile Selassie, so I had been in touch with some older doctors and midwives from the Norwegian Lutheran Mission. They very kindly offered Toni and I to stay at their compound in Jinka adjacent the mission hospital (now government-run). How insane to stay at a mission hospital in the backwoods of Ethiopia, am I right? I admit our lives really are crazy.

That being said, this compound is amazing. The flat we're in is gorgeous, with a screened in porch, surrounded by mango, banana, and papaya trees - with our own kitchen, running (hot!) water - the works! It's such a lush spot, we're incredibly contented.... I pinch myself how well Toni and I have been treated all over the world by friends and friends of friends. We've met the most interesting people, I feel I've done a rubbish job at returning the hospitality. Maybe when we have a real house (or at least more than 1 room apartment) someday..?

No matter what, I'm consistently in awe of how vast the world is, how diverse the people are and the lives they live. I feel like we'll come back from Ethiopia still reeling from what we've seen. Absurd really to think we could write PhDs on this place and be some kind of "expert." ha. The truth is we really have no idea. Maybe that's what I should write? Over and over again for 100,000 words: I have no idea. :)

loves from the deep south
jooj.

Igzhabier ymesgin!!**

By heaven, just when you think you know a place! The most remarkable thing happened this last week:

Toni was mugged by a band of street kids last Wednesday. A group of them surrounded him and very deftly pickpocketed his backpack, where he had a wallet with 300 Ethiopian birr (about $15), plus his passport and Ethiopian residence card. (He doesn't usually carry his passport - he had an appointment at the German Embassy that day). We cursed our luck, went to the police, made a report, and started the process of replacing them.

Then! Then! Yesterday evening, our friend Mekdes called to say the police had called her asking if she knew a "Toni Johannes," and that they had his passport. Wha?! Toni arrived at the designated police station this morning, and there it was - his complete wallet, everything intact (aside from the 300 birr of course). A policeman found it lying on the sidewalk way across town from where Toni was mugged. Miraculously, he searched through it, found an old SIM card of Toni's that he put in his own phone, found Mekdes' number, and called her.

Did you ever hear the story of my car being stolen in Washington DC? I filed a police report, of course, but 3 weeks later - no car. We got the insurance pay-out, and then! The next day, a woman called - the car had been abandoned outside her house for 3 weeks. About a mile from where it had been stolen. She had called the police multiple times to report it. It had a dozen parking tickets on it. She finally just opened the thing (of course it was unlocked), found my name and number, and called me up. I called the police to tell them they're complete idiots and the car had been there for a month, reported again and again back to them, and then! Then the best part - the day after I called the police, they call me and say "good news! We found your car!" C'mon.

The point is, that was a full car. This was just a wallet with some random foreigners' IDs in it. They didn't have to go to all that trouble to trace it back to us - and how bout those street kids? They could have done something else with it all besides leaving it clearly for someone to find and potentially return it back to it's owner. They just wanted the money to buy food or khat. (While seemingly a pittance, 300 birr would be about a good month's salary for a street worker/labourer.) And the police did all this without asking for anything, no bribes or gifts or anything. I'm honestly amazed.

You see Ethiopia can sometimes be a really really hard place to live. "Ferenji" (foreigners) stand out like crazy, and sometimes you can really feel unwelcome and as one friend remarked, the "subject of aggressive curiosity." Ha. I won't go into more specifics, but needless to say it can feel depressing, and it's easy to ask what on earth we're doing here? Wouldn't everyone be better off on their own?

But that's not the full story, of course. We have also been welcomed so warmly by so many others. So much of my work is going home to home to talk to old women, and they are kinder than anything. I love that. And then when you think that this whole country is inordinately opaque, that we'll never understand it or feel 'a part,' then the police - notoriously corrupt or inept elsewhere! (hello, DC!) - go and surprise us with their excellent work and honesty. Sheesh.

**Praise be to God!