Day Two — 20/20 Vision

Following breakfast and a devotional by Kent, our second day began with a warm welcome from an old friend of our team from last year.
Debelle, a project director for LIA, and a bus driver showed up to our main bungalow. After walking through the front door, Debelle (pronounced Double A) was greeted with shouts of joy from the six people who made the trip in October. It was an exciting reunion for the rest of us to witness because it gave us a glimpse of the relationships w'ell be making, too, while in Addis. Debelle, who some of us are guessing is in his mid 40s, can easily switch from lighthearted laughter to inspiring insight. He often answers questions with, "It is possible."
Our team boarded our bus and left our compound for LIA's headquarters (after an amazing breakfast by Gette, of course). Everything on the other side of our gate was eye-opening. We had missed a lot by arriving in the dark of night. There was much for our eyes to take in: beautiful young children wearing tattered clothes, worn shoes and a huge smile on their faces; elderly people laying near the street; donkeys, goats and dogs randomly walking . . . everywhere; small businesses stacked like a metal decks of cards and packed along nearly every stretch of road; the vibrant colors on clothes and on store fronts fighting with the dirt and mud for attention. It's a dizzying site — mainly because it's one that most of us haven't seen before.
Amber warned us about seeing the upcoming slaughter area to our right.
"Oh, you mean the smell?" I said. "We experienced that last night coming in."
"No, just seeing it," she said.
"Because it's out in the open or something?"
"Everything here is out in the open."
We soon passed the goat market, which included small groups of goats kept by small groups of men who sell and slaughter them on mounds of dirt and rubble right off the street.
"Sometimes you'll see a goat's head just sticking out," Amber added.

Life in Abundance headquarters

We made our way to LIA's headquarters, where Dr. Yared, executive manager of LIA, gave us a PowerPoint presentation of the organization's work in Ethiopia. His soft voice competed with the traffic just outside the windows of the third floor office. Any other such slide presentation would've lost to the car horns and truck engines, but Dr. Yared, as he's known to our team, drowned out the noise with his passion for LIA's mission and work. Dr. Yared is dressed nicely and looks professional. He means business, but inspires service.
He touches on the various projects LIA has in Addis and elsewhere in Ethiopia, primarily focusing on the Merkato Street Children project. He also mentions HIV/AIDS, child nutrition and sanitation projects. Merkato, however, is where we'll be spending a lot of time again this year.
"It is a very hard area," he said. "They are quite vulnerable and they are sensitive to people. They are very needy. Because of the deep problem they're in, they can be hostile. We have to be patient with them. We are trying to work with them very wisely. We what to love them."
Like LIA's other programs, the Merkato project focuses on the poorest of the poor. It focuses on two different types of street children. At-risk children are those who live on the streets during the day doing whatever they can to make a Birr. This may mean selling trinkets or shining shoes. Once their work is done, they return home to their families. They have a place to live. Hardcore boys are those who've lived on the streets, day and night, for a period of time. They often have no contact with their families and are wrapped up in the street life.
"You'll see many kids on the streets of Ethiopia," he said, later adding that 100,000 children live on the streets of Addis. "We are trying to break that cycle."
To do this, LIA believes in helping each child "holistically" (The "w" added by LIA). Instead of giving them fish, the boys are taught to fish. The boys are rehabilitated spiritually, socially and economically. They receive education and shelter. They also receive job skill training, among other benefits.
Other inspiring portions of Dr.Yared's presentation included his explanation of LIA's focus on the importance of the role of women in changing Ethiopia. He likened them to the "software of the nation."
"When you approach a woman, you really approach our nation as a whole," he said. "Our tradition and culture are really hard on women. We believe you must work on the software first, and then you can work on the hardware."
Another moving aspect was the evidence of the Biblical foundation LIA's built it's organization on. Dr. Yared revealed through two verses how LIA's leadership has broken down passages of Scripture to their DNA and rebuilt them as their work model and mission. After reading LIA's mission statement, he shared its source.
"John 10:10 is paraphrased here," he said. "This is our vision."
While LIA works to meet the needs of the whole person through its 17 partner churches in Ethiopia, elements of faith permeate its every move.
In Jimma, where we're set to visit later in our journey, LIA's partner churches are working with 265 at-risk and hardcore children. The program phased out last year after its three years of training and mentoring.
Why three years?
"Jesus equipped his disciples for three years," he said. " We agree with his timing."
Dr. Yared also explained how many partner organizations, such as UNICEF and USAID, are impressed with LIA's model and work. One USAID worker said she sees something different in LIA as she compares it to other organizations.
"The secret is we always communicate with God," he told her. "We e-mail him."
"Keep on that e-mail," she responded.
This "e-mail" is a regular part of LIA's work. Its staff fasts and prays each Monday until 2 p.m. It also prays for 24 hours once every month.
"This office is just like an office chapel," he said. "If you are with God, he will give you insight."
While most people might find the prayer time to be unproductive, it's essential to LIA. Dr. Yared said it gives them peace when everything around them seems hopeless.
"True peace is to sleep in the midst of a crisis," he said. "That kind of peace only comes from the Lord. That's the vision of shalom. That is the life of Christ."
Dr. Yared asked for us to pray for God to send the right people to them (servants, not employees), and to pray for quality in all they do. He asked for prayer for sustainability in all they do and a new training center, to give their staff a common place to share.
He also urged us to focus on God's will in our lives and to serve him by serving those in need, which are God's priority.
"He will bless you indeed with a joy and peace that the world can't give you," he said with his quiet confidence.
Following Dr. Yared's presentation, Lana informed him that the interest and support for LIA goes beyond that which is now in their office. Many people supported us on this trip through fundraisers, gifts, childcare, time off work and prayer. Many others support the organization itself in their own way.
"It's a much bigger thing than this group of people," she told him.
"I know," he responded. "Thank you."

Macchiatos and Merkato

After meeting with Dr. Yared, our team went downstairs to the building's ground floor, which is known as Cafe Chocolata. We were able to have our first cups of the famous macchiatos, which those who made last year's trip talk about as much as Gette's cooking. We now understand their enthusiasm. This was a cool experience for us coffee lovers — enjoying coffee in the birthplace of coffee.
Following lunch back at our bungalows, we were driven to the area we'd just heard so much about — Merkato. Merkato is the largest outdoor Market in Africa if not the largest in the world. For those of us who felt a sensory overload after seeing the streets of Addis for the first time, Merkato only challenged us more. It's 10 times more traffic, people and merchants existing in a more dense fashion. We witnessed many miracles in Merkato — they occur often in the form of a person, animal or vehicle not being hit by another vehicle. Drivers here don't wait their turn to drive, they compete for their turn to drive — and people, animals and those driving seem to care very little if a bus is passing them with two inches to spare.
Then there is the endless sea of merchants. One store will sell tires, while the one next to it is filled with wrenches. Another may sell appliances.
"If someone commits a theft and takes something, you come here to buy it again," Debelle quipped, sitting near the front of our bus.

An oasis of hope in a desert of despair

Soon after taking a right turn down an alley, we see an incredible view of a valley of slums. This is the heart of Merkato. Our bus then stops on the cobblestone path we're on. One by one we step off the bus and are greeted by a swarm of young children. They smile, giggle and stick out their hand to shake yours. "What is your name?" they each ask. Once you think you've hugged each of them and shaken all their hands, a few more run up to you. It is a heartwarming, humbling experience. The only things they know about us are that we're different than them, and we're here for a special reason.
That special reason is behind a rusted metal door. It is the Merkato Street Children project. We walk into the living room-size open air courtyard and meet Dereje, director of the project. If Barack Obama were of Ethiopian descent, he would look like Dereje. He is another soft-spoken man, who often flashes a closed-mouth smile that leads you to believe he knows something you don't — and you should trust him.
We sit on wooden benches and he and Debelle take turns explaining the work of the project in more detail than Dr. Yared. Dereje and his staff work with 50 hardcore boys and 150 at-risk youth and their families.
"If we empower the family, that is a way of protecting against street life," he said.
Many of the hardcore street boys rejoin their families after they move through the project.
That is a great success for us," Dereje added. "A privilege."
A highlight of this visit was through a tiny door near the back of the room.
On the other side was a class of more than 20 seventh and eighth graders sitting shoulder to shoulder and shoulder to wall. The light near the front of the small room revealed an English lesson on a large chalkboard. It's the room's only light. Each of these children — both boys and girls — are off the streets because of LIA. They are in school because of LIA. As our team members took turns entering the classroom, their teacher asked us what we do for a living and if it is what we envisioned ourselves doing when we were younger. This was their idea of success. Those of us who's original interests at least somewhat lined up with our current vocation were given a round of applause by the room of students. Another humbling experience. They've overcome much more in their lives than we did at their age too get where they are today. We couldn't help but return the applause.
In this room we met self-proclaimed future doctors and engineers.
In this room we discovered the future of Ethiopia.