Thomas Howard spent this summer as an intern with Water to Thrive, traveling to Ethiopia and working on a guide for best practices for water point implementation. This is the first of two posts about his time in Africa.

My journey to Ethiopia began long before I hopped in a cab to go to the airport. For the past five years, I have been wrestling with what I want to do with my life – there are so many options and possibilities. A little over a year ago, I decided to follow the suppressed passion of using my future career to help others in a radical way. I transferred to Texas State University and began to work toward a degree in Water Resources.

At the beginning of the year, I began applying for internships and wound up in a program called ServeHere. ServeHere connects college students with non-profits in the Austin area, and through ServeHere I got an interview at Water to Thrive. During my interview, W2T founder Dick Moeller asked whether I would be interested in traveling to Ethiopia this summer. I had had a conversation with my family exactly one week prior to this question and I had told them that it was necessary for me to see what it is really like to bring clean water to people in another part of the world. Water to Thrive offered the perfect reflection of this vision. I told Dick the same thing and the next thing I knew it was June and I was 38,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean, about to have my perspectives tossed into complete turmoil.

 

In my mind our journey is separated into two segments, the north and the south, with times of transition in the sprawling capital, Addis Ababa. We landed in Addis early in the morning and spent the day seeing the sites and learning some of the rich history of Ethiopia. I was never completely overwhelmed by the different culture that we were thrust into, but about halfway through the day I began to sense something different and unique about the Ethiopian people. It would take me a bit longer to glean the reasons for this incongruity.

In the northern part of Ethiopia there was a long and deep-rooted Christian history. We visited the monolithic rock-hewn churches of Lalibella and saw the eighth wonder of the medieval world. Eleven different churches were carved in 23 years. It seems impossible that mere men could have excavated the vast quantity of this hard granite in such a short time. It was a miracle that these churches were finished in such a short time. It is believed that men chipped away at the solid rock all day long and when the lights faded and the men retired from their work, drifting away into sleep, angels descended from heaven and labored through the night.

 

The faith of the Ethiopian orthodox people was easy to see in the way that they spoke of it. Children and teenagers trying to sell us crosses, rocks, and necklaces often swarmed us. Nearly every person we encountered had a cross bound and hanging from their neck. It was encouraging for me as a Christian to see another community of believers half way around the world.

Ethiopia’s rich history intrigued me immensely but being a tourist or “Forengi”, which means foreigner, was beginning to lose its charm. People followed us around town for hours, running after our bus, trying to sell us trinkets and crosses. It became a daily ritual to walk out of the hotel and find the young “traveling merchants” looking at us with a voracious appetite. I wanted to see Ethiopia in a light that was not varnished by the stain of tourism. I was enthusiastic about leaving the big cities and bouncing along the dilapidated roads for hours.  We traveled from the hills to the mountains. We were leaving behind cities of marvelous history and moving forward to communities hoping to build a marvelous future.

 

The mountainous landscape became my solace, the peaks at once impressing and puzzling me with their power. The dry mountains of Tigray, insurmountable in the narrow view, were but specks underneath the sky, which rose above teaching them humility. Oh how it affects a being to be among those citadels of stone. It is an indescribable, unquantifiable emotional event.

These mountains nearly halfway around the world showed me that perspective influences the shapes of our schemata in regards to places and people. The people in the communities that we visited personified these thoughts. They were bastions of strength, physically and in caliber. They toiled routinely without reprieve. Seeing them from afar they are small and seem filled with deep sorrow, but once you are among them you find yourself overwhelmed by their durability, diligence, and kindness. 

While in Tigray we visited the well sponsored by W2T supporters Homer and Mary Goering, who were with us for the journey. The visit was a surprise to most and unforgettable for all. The celebration was grand, far more flamboyant than any block party in Texas. As we gathered under the shelter, which provided temporary asylum from the sun, and shared thanksgiving and provided encouragement, we were provided nourishment. Though the community had little to spare, they gave more then they could possibly afford. Mary and Homer were showered in gifts and thanks.  Those who survived day to day with so little gave so much. I felt so greedy and dirty in their presence in this moment. I do not believe that there are absolutely good people in this world but some of the people in rural Ethiopia are truly exceptional. 

 

It was not the first moment that we were shown such immense and undeserved love, and it definitely would not be the last. This was when I began to push aside the veil in my mind surrounding the incongruity of the Ethiopian people from the society that I have seen my entire life. The villagers showed love to everyone that they met. They love strangers with a compassion that is greater than the love that we show our friends and next-door neighbors. I go through times when it is hard for me just to love lifelong friends.

How could they love like this? Even though they did not know us they loved us. It does not remind me of Jesus, but it makes me think about the way that he loved. Jesus knows and loves us, which is so much more fulfilling than just unconditional love. However, being loved regardless of situation brought a sense of comfort as well. Being surrounded by this love in the rural villages made you feel safe in a foreign land 8,000 miles away from home with an eight-hour time difference. Maybe love is easy. Maybe love transcends space and time. Maybe loving others instills a deep-rooted happiness regardless of our own struggles. Maybe love encompasses far more than our hearts can conceive.

 

 

Thomas Howard spent this summer as an intern with Water to Thrive, traveling to Ethiopia and working on a guide for best practices for water point implementation. This is the first of two posts about his time in Africa.

My journey to Ethiopia began long before I hopped in a cab to go to the airport. For the past five years, I have been wrestling with what I want to do with my life – there are so many options and possibilities. A little over a year ago, I decided to follow the suppressed passion of using my future career to help others in a radical way. I transferred to Texas State University and began to work toward a degree in Water Resources.

At the beginning of the year, I began applying for internships and wound up in a program called ServeHere. ServeHere connects college students with non-profits in the Austin area, and through ServeHere I got an interview at Water to Thrive. During my interview, W2T founder Dick Moeller asked whether I would be interested in traveling to Ethiopia this summer. I had had a conversation with my family exactly one week prior to this question and I had told them that it was necessary for me to see what it is really like to bring clean water to people in another part of the world. Water to Thrive offered the perfect reflection of this vision. I told Dick the same thing and the next thing I knew it was June and I was 38,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean, about to have my perspectives tossed into complete turmoil.

 

In my mind our journey is separated into two segments, the north and the south, with times of transition in the sprawling capital, Addis Ababa. We landed in Addis early in the morning and spent the day seeing the sites and learning some of the rich history of Ethiopia. I was never completely overwhelmed by the different culture that we were thrust into, but about halfway through the day I began to sense something different and unique about the Ethiopian people. It would take me a bit longer to glean the reasons for this incongruity.

In the northern part of Ethiopia there was a long and deep-rooted Christian history. We visited the monolithic rock-hewn churches of Lalibella and saw the eighth wonder of the medieval world. Eleven different churches were carved in 23 years. It seems impossible that mere men could have excavated the vast quantity of this hard granite in such a short time. It was a miracle that these churches were finished in such a short time. It is believed that men chipped away at the solid rock all day long and when the lights faded and the men retired from their work, drifting away into sleep, angels descended from heaven and labored through the night.

 

The faith of the Ethiopian orthodox people was easy to see in the way that they spoke of it. Children and teenagers trying to sell us crosses, rocks, and necklaces often swarmed us. Nearly every person we encountered had a cross bound and hanging from their neck. It was encouraging for me as a Christian to see another community of believers half way around the world.

Ethiopia’s rich history intrigued me immensely but being a tourist or “Forengi”, which means foreigner, was beginning to lose its charm. People followed us around town for hours, running after our bus, trying to sell us trinkets and crosses. It became a daily ritual to walk out of the hotel and find the young “traveling merchants” looking at us with a voracious appetite. I wanted to see Ethiopia in a light that was not varnished by the stain of tourism. I was enthusiastic about leaving the big cities and bouncing along the dilapidated roads for hours.  We traveled from the hills to the mountains. We were leaving behind cities of marvelous history and moving forward to communities hoping to build a marvelous future.

 

The mountainous landscape became my solace, the peaks at once impressing and puzzling me with their power. The dry mountains of Tigray, insurmountable in the narrow view, were but specks underneath the sky, which rose above teaching them humility. Oh how it affects a being to be among those citadels of stone. It is an indescribable, unquantifiable emotional event.

These mountains nearly halfway around the world showed me that perspective influences the shapes of our schemata in regards to places and people. The people in the communities that we visited personified these thoughts. They were bastions of strength, physically and in caliber. They toiled routinely without reprieve. Seeing them from afar they are small and seem filled with deep sorrow, but once you are among them you find yourself overwhelmed by their durability, diligence, and kindness. 

While in Tigray we visited the well sponsored by W2T supporters Homer and Mary Goering, who were with us for the journey. The visit was a surprise to most and unforgettable for all. The celebration was grand, far more flamboyant than any block party in Texas. As we gathered under the shelter, which provided temporary asylum from the sun, and shared thanksgiving and provided encouragement, we were provided nourishment. Though the community had little to spare, they gave more then they could possibly afford. Mary and Homer were showered in gifts and thanks.  Those who survived day to day with so little gave so much. I felt so greedy and dirty in their presence in this moment. I do not believe that there are absolutely good people in this world but some of the people in rural Ethiopia are truly exceptional. 

 

It was not the first moment that we were shown such immense and undeserved love, and it definitely would not be the last. This was when I began to push aside the veil in my mind surrounding the incongruity of the Ethiopian people from the society that I have seen my entire life. The villagers showed love to everyone that they met. They love strangers with a compassion that is greater than the love that we show our friends and next-door neighbors. I go through times when it is hard for me just to love lifelong friends.

How could they love like this? Even though they did not know us they loved us. It does not remind me of Jesus, but it makes me think about the way that he loved. Jesus knows and loves us, which is so much more fulfilling than just unconditional love. However, being loved regardless of situation brought a sense of comfort as well. Being surrounded by this love in the rural villages made you feel safe in a foreign land 8,000 miles away from home with an eight-hour time difference. Maybe love is easy. Maybe love transcends space and time. Maybe loving others instills a deep-rooted happiness regardless of our own struggles. Maybe love encompasses far more than our hearts can conceive.