New Court Date

I was just informed that we have a new court date--February 11th.  It's a bummer that its over 2 weeks away, but I'm also relieved that I won't be constantly hoping the phone will ring with news.  So, the wait continues.  Hopefully our new documents will arrive in plenty of time before the 11th and we'll pass this time.

No New News

We haven't heard anything about passing court yet.  I was told that we have MOWA approval (I'm not sure how they can know that) and all that needs to happen is that approval letter needs to get to the judge and we'll pass court (if I'm understanding correctly).  I'll believe it once it happens.  I did not expect that we would have issues with our MOWA letter, so this journey has been a little more difficult than I had anticipated.  Once we do pass court, then we move onto waiting for an Embassy date, which is taking longer than usual now, too.  Still praying for everything to work out the best way possible.

Aaron's travel journal--part 6 (the last entry)

Part 6 of Aaron's travel journal (the last entry)...

January 1, 2011, Kronenwetter, Wisconsin

Our luggage came on the last day we were in Ethiopia.  We were able to deliver all 9 crates of donations--clothes, bedding, art supplies, medical supplies and more.  What a relief.

When saying goodbye to Misikir and Hawi, Misikir said, "I love you."  That was my favorite moment in Ethiopia.  I got to talk with him more through a translator.  He's excited about fishing and snowboarding--oh, and driving.  Hawi continues to be a bit more guarded, and that's still okay.

We started home late Wednesday night (Dec. 29).  Finally got to see the Frankfurt airport (infamous as it is after shutting down last week).  What a drag.  Inefficient and unfriendly.  I was glad to fly into Chicago.  Home at last.  Almost.

Flights to Central Wisconsin were being canceled due to some bad weather.  Instead of waiting all day (about a 6 hour layover) to find out if ours would be canceled, we took a bus to Madison, where Jean [Michelle's mom] and Tom [Aaron's dad] picked us up and drove us home.  What a relief.

The last two days have been healthy "recovery" time.  I put together three short music videos of our adventures.  I'll share them with the church tomorrow.  I also have the task of sharing a message, ideally something tied to our adventures in Ethiopia.

As I have thought about what to share, I keep coming back to the disparity between USA and Ethiopia.  We have high luxury and immediate access to basically whatever we want.  People in Ethiopia are much more limited.  Yet, when I think about our driver and friend, G., seeing how we live, I'm afraid it would ruin him.  I'm afraid he would see the entitlements we live with, and begin to feel dissatisfied with his life.  That would be tragic.

Part of the importance of staying focused on Christ (and G. is a Christian) is that He keeps us grounded, whether we are entitled Americans suffering through low water pressure and lost luggage in Ethiopia, or we're Ethiopians struggling with a desire to live like the people in Hollywood movies.

Philippians 4:10-13

How I praise the Lord that you are concerned about me again.  I know you have always been concerned about me, but you didn't have a chance to help me.  Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have.  I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything.  I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or with empty, with plenty or little.  For I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength.  --Paul

Every situation has its challenges.  We learned through our temporary situation in Ethiopia.  Misikir and Hawi will have a lot to learn from their upcoming (more permanent) situation in USA.  May Christ give us all the strength to be content and effective for His purposes.

For now, I am grateful to God for bed and my family.  It's good to be home.

Aaron's travel journal--part 5

Part 5 of Aaron's travel journal...

December 26, 2010, 7:36pm, Addis Ababa

Instead of writing yesterday, I treated myself to some reading Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book.  A little Christmas gift to myself.

Had another good day (or couple of hours anyway) with Hawi & Misikir.  Hawi clearly has a tight relationship with two other girls in particular--T and B.

Misikir is one of a few older boys, and seems to be well-liked.  He was disappointed to tell me that the second bird died; the first of two died two days ago.

We gave all five of our kids Christmas gifts yesterday.  (Sophie was sick, so she received hers before we left for the orphanage.) The girls got matching butterfly necklaces, Misikir and Isaiah got matching hemp-braided necklaces, and Preston (who isn't a necklace guy) got a tin of mints from Hard Rock Orlando.  He shared the mints.  The Ethiopian kids found them to be too strong.  Hawi spat hers into her hand and threw it on the ground.

On Christmas night we ate at Hi-Met Cafe.  They were playing Christmas music.  One of the great  moments of the trip was sitting there with my family enjoying a meal that was mixed up in half a dozen ways (I blame the language barrier, but I think we may just have a bad waitress), and hearing "I'll be Home for Christmas."  What a weird Christmas.

I didn't sleep well last night.  Maybe that is why I found myself feeling less "up" today.  The dogs bark all night long.  I think they must serve some purpose--security, pest control or carrion clean-up.  Whatever their purpose, these sort-of-stray dogs are widespread and nocturnal.  It just turned 8:00pm, and I hear the first barks beginning.  They will continue through 9:00am.  That's getting old.

I got out of bed this morning in my "down" mood, dogs barking and religious chants blaring over loudspeakers to the neighborhood.  I pulled aside the curtain of our room, and suddenly Ethiopia had lost much of its charm for me.  The dirt road in front of our guest house is strewn with rubble and litter.  We are separated from the road by a wall with electric fencing at the top.  Our neighbors use razor wire (a wise choice considering the rolling blackouts).  People, old cars, stray dogs and livestock intermingle along the street.  Every 75 yards there is an aged tarp that signifies a shop.  Every shop sells the same things--drinks, candies and convenience items.  What I mean when I say "shop" is a counter you walk up to and tell someone what you want from their 6-foot by 6-foot closet.  I am not a part of this community, but I also feel less like a tourist now.  I walk down the street with my eyes low.  Maybe I'm tired.  Maybe I'm homesick.  Maybe I'm sick of wondering where our stupid luggage is.

Many of our friends went home last night.  We met some new friends and had a good visit with Misikir and Hawi today.  We visited Intoto Mountain and did some shopping along the streets.  Another early night.

I'm going to read The Jungle Book and continue hoping that each car I hear outside is the one that will bring our luggage.

P.S.  I have had some moments of "extra instruction" with Preston, Isaiah and Sophie, but their resilience to the challenges here is amazing.  They are doing great, and I'm proud of them.

Mistake--didn't pass court

My adoption coordinator called today to let me know that someone in Ethiopia made a mistake when notifying them of who passed court last week--we in fact did not pass court, two other children did.  I'm feeling very sad right now.  I know that this is just a set-back and that H & M will eventually be ours, but it's hard to have to wait longer.  So, we are still waiting for that missing MOWA (Ministry of Woman's Affairs) letter.  Plus, in the past week Ethiopia has changed their policy (like they seem to do all of the time) and everyone who has not passed court yet (even those of us who already had at least one court date) will now need to send additional paperwork (the I-171H which is a document issued to us by the US government stating that we are approved to "furnish proper care to orphans") in order to finally receive the MOWA letter.  This paperwork must be notarized locally, certified by our state and authenticated in Washington D.C.  Really?  That just seems nuts.  Once all of the proper certificates and signatures are finally on that letter it needs to be sent to Ethiopia--to MOWA.  How much time is that going to take?  We've already seen that they aren't very prompt at issuing our letter--how long until they put our new documents with our current documents?

We'll, I guess I'm hoping for a miracle.  I would love if we passed on Monday and they didn't require us to send the I-171H.  

God is always good.  God has a plan.  God is sad when we are sad.  God rejoices in Hawi & Misikir finding a new family.  God's timing, not mine.

 

Aaron's travel journal--part 4

Part 4 of Aaron's travel journal...

December 24, 2010, Christmas Eve in Addis Ababa

What a strange Christmas Eve.  From what I understand, Santa's luggage got tangled up in Frankfurt, just like ours.  Any deliveries he had planned for the Winowiski kids are delayed indefinitely.

But Christmas isn't about Santa Clause anyway, right?  We did go with two other families to an international Christmas Eve service in downtown Addis.  It was a lot like home.  Christmas songs.  Advent candles.  Bible readings.  The  highlight was the candle-lighting at the end.  As a reminder that Christ is the light of the world, they gave everyone a candle (about 500-700 people).  They turned the lights out and started to pass the flame person to person from the back.  When we raised our candles in the air and read Scripture together, it was dramatic.

Christmas in America is going to be a shock to Misikir and Hawi, I am sure.

We had another good visit with them today.  Misikir is outgoing, and willing to play soccer, show us school work, and speak some English with us.  Hawi is more reserved around us.  Michelle is giving her plenty of space.  It seems like Hawi is finding people to talk to--mostly the orphanage staff--as a safe way to avoid engaging with us too much.  Michelle understands this safety mechanism and says she would do the same thing Hawi is doing.  That being said, it was a surprise to me when Hawi got my attention and one point by calling me "Dad."  It was a happy surprise.

Preston, Isaiah and Sophie are getting along great with Misikir and Hawi.  Today they played some simple games together and had a lot of fun.  Misikir keeps two baby pigeons in a drawer in his room.  I think he and Isaiah are going to be quite a pair. 

Yesterday our visit to the orphanage included face-to-face interaction with the family members who relinquished Misikir and Hawi.  We asked them a few questions through an interpreter.  Even then communication was difficult.

I'll write some of what I learned in that interview time, and in some time with Misikir's and Hawi's social workers. [Much of this is edited out of the blog for Misikir and Hawi's privacy]  Misikir and Hawi came from a region of Ethiopia that primarily speaks one of the 80 languages, so even the national language, Amharic, is foreign to their families.  I asked a question in English.  Our interpreter repeated the question in Amharic, and a family member translated that into the language spoken by the rest of the family.  The answers came to us along the reverse route.  Yesterday was almost surely the last time Misikir and Hawi and their families would see each other.  That is tragic.

Then we consider other tragedies, like kids begging for money on the streets where we shopped yesterday.  Hawi and Misikir, even in the midst of tragedy, have families who gave them the chance to have regular, healthy meals, and education, and the chance to connect to a new family.  That is an amazing blessing in the midst of tragedy.  I hope they understand that--all of them.  It seems like they do.


Michelle gave pictures albums to Misikir, Hawi and their families.  They included prints of Misikir, Hawi, their new family and their pending home.  They really appreciated the keepsakes.


Well, Christmas Eve ends with some delicious cake from a cafe down the street, Michelle going to bed early, and Isaiah's declaration that Sophie is ruining his life (and Sophie demonstrating that ruining Isaiah's life is indeed a regular item on her to-do list.)  How will they dynamics change when Misikir's and Hawi's personalities are mixed in?  God only knows.

P.S.  A couple of the little boys at the orphanage giggle when they feel my beard.  I let them do it, even though I'm not into people touching my face.

Aaron's travel journal--part 3

Part 3 of Aaron's travel journal...

December 23, 9:00pm, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

The big day!

We got in late last night.  Our luggage is still out there somewhere, but that's no surprise since we switched airlines.  It was good to sleep in a bed.

Our big day started with a bang.  That bang was made by me falling backwards over the edge of the tub, trying to regain my balance by grabbing the shower curtain, and taking the whole thing down with me.  I'm still a little sore.

We joined two other couples on the ground floor of our guest house, and headed for the orphanage around 7:00am.  It was not the typical way they operate around here--earlier than usual--but we all arrived too late to meet our kids last night.  Meeting Misikir and Hawi was a requirement before our appearance in court, which was scheduled for 9:15am.

It's a good thing we went to Universal Studios two weeks ago.  The crazy rides prepared me for riding on Ethiopian roads.  You would not believe the bumps and divots--more like moguls and pits--on city streets here.  And the traffic.  Imagine a city with a population around the same as Chicago.  Now imagine that population moving in cars and on foot.  Now take away all traffic lights, street signs, lane designations and crosswalks.  Add sheep, goats, cows and stray dogs.  Mix in a generous helping of diesel fumes.  Shake and enjoy.  Again, you won't believe it until you experience it.

We pulled up to the orphanage, and there were Misikir and Hawi, standing at the gate in real life!  They looked exactly like their pictures.  Michelle and I stepped out while everyone else stayed behind.  (Their children are younger, so they were waiting to go on to the next facility.)

When we stepped through the gate there were about 15 kids standing around, many of them in school uniforms.  Since this visit was not within their regular protocol, the orphanage had no one there to guide the introduction process.  We said hello to Misikir and Hawi and stood rather awkwardly, trying to figure out what we should do.  Hawi's friend asked, "Are you family?"  Michelle said, "Yes, for Hawi and Misikir."  Misikir lit up and threw his hands in the air.  Then he gave Michelle a big hug.  I had stepped outside the gate for a moment, so my account of the first hug comes from Michelle's recollection.  When I came back through the gate, Hawi was hugging Michelle and Misikir came to me, initiating a long hug.  Then I hugged Hawi.  It was a great couple of minutes, but we had to go.  We told them we would be back later, and they seemed to understand.

Both of the couples we were with also planned to adopt two children each, and they were anxious to meet their kid for the first time.  Apparently there is a cold going around the orphanage they are adopting from, and our surprise visit came before the staff could remove the geological layers of snot from some of the faces.  But even behind a snot-mask, the kids were beautiful.  About 25 of them came and greeted us.  While the other couples met their kids, Michelle and I took photos and videos for them.

Back to the guest house to pick up more adoptive couples then on to court.

We took the wild ride further into Addis Ababa with about eight couples in two vans.  One of the couples was staying at the very comfortable Hilton, one on a short list of places in Ethiopia that meets Western standards of sanitation.  You can even flush your toilet paper rather than placing it in a basket next to the toilet.

As we waited with dozens of people in the court house, we ran into Karl and Heather K., friends from Oshkosh.  Karl is a pastor at Oshkosh Community Church and Heather is a friend of mine from Bible camp way back when.  They are also adopting two kids.  Small world, huh?

After waiting in a hallway, we were moved with the eight couples from our group into a waiting room.  This room had about the strangest dynamic I can think of.  Structurally, like most of Ethiopia, it was not stunning.  The room was a white box with one wall being largely composed of a window to the outside.  The walls were dirty, and the tile floor had a thick layer of dust.  Along the three non-windowed walls were chairs.  Michelle and I sat against a feature-less wall, with the door we entered on the wall to our left, the window wall to our right, and the wall with the door to the judge's "chamber" straight in front of us.  What made such a strange dynamic in this dirty white box was the mix of people.  Randomly seated around the room were two distinct groups.  We belonged to the group of white Americans eager with the anticipation of finally completing the long adoption process and bringing our new children home.  The other distinct group was the collected birth family representatives.  These were the closest living relatives to the children we Americans are so excited to adopt.  For these African parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, this is the last step in a heart-wrenching process.  This is a day of finality, and a reminder that they are somehow unable to provide for a child.  And there we sat. Together.  Staring across the dirty box of a room at each other, quietly waiting to be called in to the judge.  Many relinquishing family members left that meeting with tears in their eyes.

Somewhere in that room were Misikir's and Hawi's family.

Our agency's social worker called Michelle and I and one other couple to see the judge.  It was a very plain office space.  The judge, a woman in her early forties asked us:

• Do you have any children currently?
• Have you told them about your plans to adopt?
• Do they agree with your plans?
• Since your decision to adopt from Ethiopia, have you learned more about Ethiopian culture?  (She added here, "It is important that they know about their Ethiopian heritage.")
• Do you know other families who have adopted from Ethiopia?
• Do you spend time with them?
• Have you met the children you are planning to adopt?
• Do you understand that this adoption is permanent?

 To each of these questions, all four of us answered "yes."  The judge said there is one more piece of paperwork that should be arriving this afternoon.  Then she sent us on our way.  Now we wait to see if we are approved.

More happened today, much more, but it is late, and I need some sleep.  So that it doesn't leave my mind completely, I'll summarize the other events of the day.

• Return to orphanage
• Meeting Misikir & Hawi's family
• shopping
• food for $20, dessert first

Aaron's travel journal--part 2

Part 2 of Aaron's travel journal...

December 22, 5:45pm, Dubai, United Arab Emirates


Carolina F.'s handiwork in Munich didn't entirely pan out, but after 10 hours of camping in front of gate 116 in Dubai, and one hour of frantic scrambling, we seem to be on our way to Addis.  I'm writing as the crew finalizes the boarding process.  But, I should start with some of our more pleasant surprises last night.


Emirates Airlines was a real upgrade from our standard flights.  They had all the latest gadgets, included an interactive touch-screen monitor at each seat.  This device allowed Michelle to e-mail our contact at the adoption agency, and our guest house.  What a relief!  It also gave Preston the capability to call me--I was two rows behind him--and challenge me to a few touch-screen games, including chess and Battleship.  Plus, there were dozens of individual games that kept the kids busy.


One of the more surreal moments during that flight was when I was flipping trough the audio options and I ran across "The Holy Qur'an."  -- (waking up)  What?

Where was I?  How much time has passed?  The last thing I remember is pausing my writing to view a flight safety video.  I dozed off and awoke to the feel of the plane taxiing for take-off.

Now we are above the clouds as the sunset burns the sky red-orange through one set of windows and murky gray-blue out the other side.

Surreal moments are happening closer together now, intermittent with surprise naps.  Back to Emirates last night...

I started listening to reading of the Holy Qur'an in my airline-issued headphones, while a person across the aisle and ahead of me was watching (I could spy) an episode of "The Simpsons" where Lisa works to join a coven of witches.  Other video channels featured the comedy team of Gene Wilder and the late Richard Pryor; Sylvester Stallone making short work of bad guys' lives and property, and other reflections of Western culture.  --LATER--  One of my favorite moments on the flight was watching the GPS-guided graphic of our plane flying over Iraq, Kuwait and the Persian Golf, and hearing through my headphones the haunting "Battle of Evermore" by Led Zepplin.  What an odd collision of Western entertainment and the Islamic State.  Surreal.

The food served during the Emirates flight from Munich to Dubai was overwhelming.  The woman next to me got the last serving of "yogurt chicken" so I got the lamb.  Every meal came with smoked salmon and couscous as a starter.  The smoked salmon wasn't what I was used to.  When I think of smoked salmon, I picture darkened, salty fillets.  In comparison, smoked salmon in the middle east (a middle eastern airline, anyway) is more like second-had smoked.  It's like thinly sliced square of salmon about 2" by 2" that hangs out with smokers.  The smoke flavor sticks to the salmon, but it is far from cooked.  It's cold and raw.  The kids and Michelle left that course alone.  I ate it.  More out of pride than enjoyment. 

I cleansed my palate with crackers and Laughing Cow cheese.  The flight attendant asked what I'd like to drink with my meal.  In return, I asked if he had a German beer.  We were flying out of Germany, after all.  He said yes, and offered me a Budweiser.  Really?  That's totally American.  He said they also had Amstel (which I thought I remembered to be Dutch), and Heinekin.  That sounded German, and it went great with the meal, but according to the can, it is also a Dutch beer.  Oh well.

The lamb consisted of two chopped, formed sausage-like creations covered in gravy and served with green beans and cut potatoes.  Excellent.  The meal kept coming, in the form of dessert, crackers, chocolate and hot tea.

Although I didn't get any sleep, the flight was a terrific experience.  We arrived in Dubai as the sun rose.

Most of the day in the Dubai airport was slow.  We couldn't check in to our gate until 2:15pm, so we made a day of parking our luggage (5 full rolling cases, 5 full backpacks and a shoulder bag) outside Cold Stone Creamery, and exploring the ultra-modern terminal in shifts.

After a long day of waiting, we went to check in and found that our reservations with Ethiopian Airlines never made it through!  There was no way we could all fit on the plane tonight.  Ugh!  This discovery led to much running, trying to talk to (and hear) ticketing agents on too-quiet phones while afternoon Islamic prayers came over the PA, ricocheting off stacked cigarette carton mountains and reservoirs of duty-free liquor, reminding me that I am the stranger in this land (but I am welcome to let Western vices comfort me).

The ticketing situation resolved itself somewhat mysteriously.  We were resigning ourselves to split into two groups of three--one leaving tonight; the other tomorrow morning--when our Ethiopian Air agent called our Lufthansa agent our of earshot.  Within a few seconds he came back to us and said, "You are going tonight."  In disbelief Michelle asked, "All of us?"

"Yes. All of you"


I have a theory.  Sort of a cynical theory.  I am aware from recently reading "Selamta" the in-flight magazine of Ethiopian Airlines that they measure their success in profit (naturally), and the two major income streams are numbers of passengers and weight of cargo.  I suspect the Lufthansa agent mentioned that her airline was going to foot the bill for our massive cargo if Ethiopian would honor the itinerary as arranged in Munich.  Like I said, it's a cynical theory.  The more cynical theory ends with us being charged for the baggage by the kilogram.  The booking agent at Emirates did ask us to venture a guess as to its weight.  That would be a real kick in the shorts, but here is my theory in writing, so don't let anyone tell you I was surprised.  [Note: We were never charged for our bags, and my dad reminded me that people were praying for us.  Why so cynical, Aaron?]

The flight I am currently enjoying is like stepping back in time.  This bird is not the pride of the Ethiopian fleet, at least not since George Bush Senior was in office.  I'm with Isaiah and Michelle in the row of seats closest to the 60-inch projection screen that once was a luxurious feature on a long flight, but now is a trophy held by a plane whose greatest bragging right is a  long (presumably), safe career.  May it add another safe landing tonight (even if the in-flight movie is fuzzy).  Whatever gets us there.

Aaron's travel journal--part 1

To get an idea of what our trip to Ethiopia was like here is Aaron's travel journal (I, of course, have his permission to share this)...

Dec. 21, 5:46pm, Munich, Germany


Yesterday at 8:00am we checked into Central Wisconsin Airport (the self-proclaimed "friendliest airport in Mosinee") with a party of six and about 300 pounds of orphanage donations.

The plan was to be in Ethiopia in about a day.  The best laid plans of mice & men often go awry.

There was a remarkable storm in Frankfurt, Germany where we were supposed to land.  Eleven hours, four airlines, two unplanned trips through German security, one bus ride, and a partridge in a pear tree later, here we are--waiting just four more hours from now to board a plane to Dubai.  By the time we reach Ethiopia tomorrow night (God willing) we will have touched down on four continents before getting the chance to once again sleep in a bed.

Incidentally, that's more touchdowns than the Vikings got last night against the Bears (14-40, respectively).  They played at the University of Minnesota stadium, because the roof of the Metrodome collapsed under record snow the night before we were scheduled to fly into Minneapolis two weeks ago (a different trip).  Our kids are going to think delays and cancellations are the rule, not the exception of flying.


In both adventures, the kids have done very well.  Sophie and Isaiah slept during the last few hours on the plane from Chicago to Germany, so they are awake now.  They're working on their own journals and mostly getting along pretty well.  Preston and Michelle are sleeping.  I'll take my turn on the plane in a few hours.

Lufthansa Airlines did a great job rebooking us a timely flight to Addis Ababa (Ethiopia's capital city), even though you can't get there from here.  All six of us (Michelle and I, the kids, and my mom) didn't fit on any one flight.  Instead, Mom flew to Athens first.  She's going to get to Dubai before us although we get to experience Emirates Airlines--a real treat as I understand it.  Honestly.  Then from Dubai we'll fly Ethiopian Airlines, "The New Spirit of Africa."


Of course, all of this travel has a purpose.  We're supposed to meet Misikir and Hawi tomorrow morning (Wednesday, December 22) and legally adopt them in Ethiopian court on December 23.  The court date is firmly set, and we're required by Ethiopian adoption law to meet Misikir and Hawi before being approved in court.  This Munich detour is adding stress to that well-laid plan.  We don't even have any way to alert those involved in this plan--the guest house, the orphanage, our agency--that we're going to be late.


It is my hope that Emirates airlines will thrill us with in-flight wi-fi (even on-ground wi-fi would be exciting at this point).  Then Michelle would alert our agency and the guest house about the best laid plans of mice and men.


(A special thank-you to Carolina F. at Lufthansa, who went out of her way to get us all back on track.  It was no easy feat.)

We passed!

We passed in court!  Hawi & Misikir are officially ours!  I'm so excited!  I don't know when we'll actually be able to bring them home.  The US Embassy appointments are not coming very quickly right now.  It looks like it may be the end of March or later before we can get them--but at least we passed court and know that they will be coming home eventually!  Your prayers are still appreciated as we wait to bring them home.

 

Not today

So, instead of having our court date today (as scheduled) we were told that it will be sometime next week instead.  The court has closed and will remain closed for the rest of the week (Christmas in Ethiopia is January 7th).  I guess that's the way it goes in Ethiopia.  Hopefully we'll have a court date next week and we'll pass then...hopefully.

New Court Date

We are home from our trip to Ethiopia.  It was an amazing experience for all of us.  Our court date went well, but our MOWA letter was missing.  We have been rescheduled for tomorrow, January 4th.  Hopefully the letter will be there and we will pass!  Please keep us in your prayers tonight.

Here are a few pictures from our trip.

checking our 9 totes of donations and 3 suitcases--the 9 totes and one suitcase actually arrived in Ethiopia the morning we were leaving and the last 2 suitcases arrived just in time to be put directly onto our flight home!

Here are a few pictures from the balcony of our guest house...

The following picture is nearby our guest house...

We're looking forward to bringing H & M home!