Spoons by candlelight

Editor's Note: The Phifer-Houseman family consists of three adopted kids who recently went to visit their Ethiopian birthplace after many years of being in America.  They blogged about their experience.

 From Gayll:

One of the things I like about Ethiopia---that I find refreshing---is the humbleness of it all---the willingness/humility of the average person to accept smallness, physical hardship, going without, making do, not having a demanding sense of personal entitlement. 

Some of this is sad and wrong (like the pathos of the ubiquitous Ethiopian donkeys with their heavy loads): the crushing of the poor, and the way the poor just take it because they believe they have no other options.  But, what helps me about Ethiopia is the general lack of convenience, the scrappy primitiveness of it, and the fact that no one seems to notice or erupt into volcanic impatience.  “Chiggeraylam” they say. “No big deal.” 

So what is our problem that even the idea of living without high-speed internet or huge packages of toilet paper from Costco strikes fear into our hearts?  “I could never live like that,” “Wow, that’s really hard.” I hear us say.

Those of us who have grown up in the “developed” world are so hampered by the ease, privilege, pressures and absurdly exalted expectations of our upbringing.  Wealth ends up being something that hamstrings us, a massive encumbrance and distraction---which is why I am so grateful to have the chance to bring my now Minority World kids back “home."

I want them to experience the freedom and blessing to be found in living with little and making do.  I want them to see how other people get along and are actually happy, loving and generous even though they have one pair of shoes or live in a one room house with a rickety outhouse out back.  I want them to experience the liberation that comes when the lights go out, the toilets don’t flush, the internet doesn’t work and no one freaks out.  “Chiggeraylam” we say . . . and play Spoons by candlelight . . .