The paddock smelled of dung and leather. Excitement quivered through me as I adjusted the riding helmet. I was to take my first formal jumping lesson, in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, English style. Mengustu’s ears twitched, perhaps remembering the Emperor’s barns, from which I’d purchased him. The nicker of horses, halters jangling cheerily and clanging of pails made the music of morning at the stables. I loved it. I stood just inside the barn door, the thirteen-year-old girl without a saddle, in pants that were too short for my growing self, and a sleeveless cotton top. Properly dressed girls, … [Read more...]
Indifference vs. Authenticity
My parents forgot to show up for my high school graduation. They were in country, Ethiopia, and in residence. They simply went on a day outing, and didn’t come. Six months before while we were on furlough in America, I soloed a Christmas song “The Little Road to Bethlehem” in front of fifteen hundred people and received my first standing ovation ever. My parents waited in the car, tickets in hand, until the show was over. Each time I held the disappointment in my heart. It had happened before, it would happen again. That I kept hoping for a different result was the insanity. But I was … [Read more...]
Sisterhood – And The Epic Wardrobe Fail
5:05 and I was right on schedule. In a private room two floors above our gathering place, shoes, jewelry, my gown freshly steamed and beautiful, I began dressing. I would need help with the zipper. A cadre of women would come up, get me zipped, and we would return to mingle with well over a hundred guests in advance of the Pre-Valentine’s Musical Soirée – our 12th, always the Saturday before Valentine’s Day. I stepped into the gown and turned for assistance. Two confidently got to work. One held the top of the gown’s bustier the other pulled the zipper. It stuck. They wriggled … [Read more...]
I Came of Age in a Sh*thole Country
Ethiopia remains the home of my heart. My starry-eyed awkward little self quietly absorbed Africa. Heartbreakingly beautiful, it snatched my heart, and saved my soul. My love affair with African sh*thole countries began when, as a missionary family we trekked Ethiopia’s rugged terrain by mule train, looking for plateaus of indigenous people in need of medicine and education. Our first outpost was nine days by mule to the nearest road during the Monsoon season – Land Rovers couldn’t ford the swollen rivers – and half a day further on by auto to Addis Ababa. We steeped ourselves in Ethiopian … [Read more...]
