gift

i am in ethiopia because i was given a gift.

the gift was to come to ethiopia with one of my oldest and bestest friends and be with her as she meets her son for the first time.

her little, adorable, coy, smiley-eyed almost 3 year old son- Yoyo- (short for Yohannes). not only do i get to share in the joy of seeing lisa love on this little one, but i see him slowly start to realize that now, he has a mama. it's truly indescribable.

she is one of 11 amazing families- who are all meeting their kids for the first time. and they are all first time parents. and they have all been waiting, for a long time. what a gift to see this amount of love. to see the giving of people to each other- from worlds apart. the unity. the joy. the wholeness. the completion. the life bonds of family forming. i feel somewhere between a quiet observer and a doula. i do not share their stories- although i get the loss some have had, and i get the joy of seeing your child for the first time. i get the fear we all share for our children's future. the insecurities that come with having someone ultimately depend on you. the awe in that change, of one minute being just you- and then being someones mommy. what a gift- all around.

the one sightseeing thing we've done while here is to fly north to lalibela- a musical word- and a place of religious pilgrimage- home of the beautiful churches of the 12th century- carved down into the red volcanic rock of the ground- carved from the top down. the countryside is amazing- tall mountains and canyons- like the american southwest but green and covered in vegetation, grasses and acacia trees and flowering aloe plants. and there are shepherds draped in white cloth scarves with staffs surrounded by goats and skinny cows. there are no cars in lalibela- everyone walks on hilly cobblestone streets- lined with tin-roofed huts and purple bougainvillea and yellow flowering trees- the poverty of mans earth and the natural beauty of how it was before. the contrast i find humbling.

at night it is so dark- the poverty is covered under the blanket of the most amazing starry sky- with only the few scattered lights on the hillside joining it. things seem fairer at night. lalibela feels ancient and biblical- but for me- not in the churches themselves. they are impressive in their history- their architectural structure and religious symbolism- but my feeling of spiritual connection came not in those thick walls with their worn grottos and old priests- it came from the dirty houses and the flowers and the night sky- it came in the universality of a smile- when you can't speak the language. it came with the gift from adom of a goatskin cross for our gift of 2 dollars so he could eat breakfast. "something to remember me by." he said. and in this same way addis ababa has been a spiritual experience. the sharing of souls- the joining of peoples. the connection found in common experience and the connection formed despite uncommon experience. it elevates- there is hope-there is joy- there is grace.

so we left lalibela with her flowers and stars and histories. and soon we will leave addis ababa too. and lisa will kiss yoyo 1000 times to hold him over until her return when she will bring him home for good. the gift will be complete and two worlds will begin again, now together.