(dis)ability

I imagine I have gotten a taste of what the pilgrims did. No, not riding in a covered wagon, but quite a caravan none-the-less. 2 overland buses, 1 sturdy truck of supplies, 80 kids, 4 grownups, and a partridge in a pear tree (me!). 500 miles on a road under "reconstruction" aka potholes the size of texas and zig-zagging detours back and forth across the road. A 4am departure time, enough food and provisions for our 3 days, and a cassette tape of Ethiopian tunes accompanying us along the way. Herds of cows, goats, and mules to dodge. Straw huts, dry savannah, and sunrise. Armani is my seatmate and my 1st friend. Despite droopy eyelids, anxious anticipation prevents sleep. For 23 of these young ones it will be there first glimpse of home in 4 years. They wonder if their families will be there. If they are alive, if they are well, if they will get to see them. We approach a body of water; they can't begin to contain their excitement. Hours later, rolling through the fertile rift valley, Dumdums produce shouts of glee. Perfectly content with the 1 sucker they have been rationed; no one takes more than their share. No sense of entitlement. Utter gratitude and respect. They all watch out and care for her; because she's done it for them for years. I suspect...and then she tells me: this is the same road they escaped on more than 30 years ago.

Out of a trip that lasted 61 hours, we sat on a bus for 32 of them. But it was worth every butt-numbing minute of it. To see the elation on the faces of the children and their families; sweet reunions. Aunties, uncles, sisters, brothers, mothers. It had been nearly 4 years since they have been home. To our utter surprise, they threw us quite a reception. You'd have thought royalty had arrived. After a celebration ceremony and feast, we perhaps received the greatest take home gift as well. Her name is Jerusalem and we have yet to exchange one word. Somehow it hasn't mattered that she only speaks Amharic and I only English. We have become good friends. She is new, and she is different, as am I.

You see, Jerusalem has no use of her legs. She hasn't since she was young. More often than not disabilities are condemning here in Africa. There is no equal opportunity or disabilities act; most who are disabled struggle to survive. But that is what she is; a survivor. More than that she is an overcomer. Despite all odds, she has gotten herself to school and proven herself an excellent student. Jersualem, who is 15, is also an orphan. Since the death of her parents she has been living with her grandparents, who are now too poor, too old, and too weak to care for her. So, Marta and Deme have welcomed her with open arms...we start English lessons next week. :)