Inside a tukul

Oy, identity.

I've just finished a very good book by Rebecca Haile, entitled Held at a Distance: My Rediscovery of Ethiopia. Her family was forced to leave Ethiopia after the Derg came to power in the late 1970s; and in her book, she tells of her return to that country, physically and intellectually, nearly thirty years later.

My favorite section of the book gave its title to this post: Inside a tukul. While she was going to an American school in Addis Ababa, growing up, the one hour spent inside a tukul, which had been plopped down in the middle of the modern school's courtyard, was the only class that acknowledged the Ethiopian-ness of the handful of national students. The American kids were exempt from this one lesson a day on Amharic, even though they too were growing up in Addis Ababa. The second tukul she writes of is at the Crown Hotel, where ethnic dance performances are given for turistas. She tells of dancers from each of the main ethnic groups, all happily in the same show... whilst in reality, each of these groups is vying for its own dominance in the breaking Ethiopia.

I do not want to raise our child from Ethiopia inside a tukul, where only one hour is dedicated to the Ethiopian ones and where a false sense of romanticism is displayed. I'd rather have our child held at a distance, but more involved. But, in the end, the author decides that "the tukul will be there as long as the school remains in business, and I can't see why that is such a bad thing" (p160). I, however, believe that she would agree that the tukul could be better used.

But, how do I do this? The instructors and participants inside the tukul are Ethiopian. Am I only a turista? Can I be otherwise? BJL says that "adoption is biologically alien to the unadopted."

I know that our identity must come from God first; but, I don't think that we can/should ignore other aspects of it.

"Igziyabher yakal. Igziyabher ke fekede."

Like a paddle-ball

(A long, deep sigh... purging and restorative. Auntie KK, you know the kind.)

After reading those two books by BJL, and being quite discouraged by the second one (Lost and Found), I wrote to our social worker. She had suggested those reads and I wanted to give her my feedback. My discouragement came through clearly and she responded immediately... and then again today, with the link that I'm about to attach. It is just what I needed. A good story. A happy ending. Hope.

Now, it has been brought to my attention that some people don't know how to work the links that I attach. I am going to type the words "adoption hope" at the end of this entry and it will be in another color. If you roll your mouse over that word, it will change to yet another color. Click on it. You will be taken to the site that has the story and mini-movie that encouraged me today.

Adoption hope.

Two down

This second bag is full and packed thanks to my mother and my cousin, who supplied us with brand-new toddler clothes, marbles, diapers and formula. Wahoo!

Twice Born

I just finished the book Twice Born, by Betty Jean Lifton. These are some of the sentences that made me think the most... for better or for worse.

"I learned to accept that the branch must be separated from the tree" (p4).

"I went into the labyrinth and emerged with what I sought - my story" (p5).

"An adoptee's natural parents never completely lose the aura of fantasy, both positive and negative, which once surrounded them, even after they are found" (p9).

"... because occupations are something like adoptions: no matter how benign or well-meaning, they obscure the subject's origins, alter the identity" (p68).

"Adoption is biologically alien to the unadopted" (p81).

"I found myself weeping uncontrollably for I knew not what" (p99).

"A recorded existence is a real one" (p105).

"She was my mother physically, but what is being a mother" (p143)?

"I was beginning to feel much like those concentration-camp victims, prisoners of war, and the 'brainwashed' who maintain that only those who have shared their experience can possibly understand them" (p153).

"Every movement needs such a fanatical force pushing it to the outer limits if it is to get off the ground" (p176).

"Is it the orphan wind blowing through me" (p183)?

"Just as death at an early age assures a person eternal youth, so too does adoption keep one eternally young, helpless, infantilized" (p191).

"Does the adopted person go on the tree she was placed on biologically or on the tree onto which she was transplanted" (p196)?

"... the adoption triangle is set up now, everyone is victimized" (p264).

"It all comes down to the fact that we have to develop a different sense of parenthood" (p270).

Ah!

There was a referral today! Ah! Of the families that participate on the forum, we are now number four! ¡Ay! He is a baby boy of three months! My mind is racing... the referrals always come in groups! ¡Oy! ¡Ay!

Packed!

Sorry to mislead you with the title... I had to do it. No, we're not going to Ethiopia yet; however, I do have one of our four pieces of luggage packed! You see, our plan is this: Rob and I each get two checked pieces of luggage and each get a carry-on. Rob and I will pack what we need for our week in Ethiopia in our carry-ons. In three and a half pieces of the large luggage to check, we'll put donations for the two orphanages and transition house that we'll visit. And in the remaining half, we'll put what we need for our son/daughter. Thanks to my friend, JR, and her sister, I have the piece of luggage that you see ready to go. Each time I receive more donations, I feel like it's Christmas. I pour over them and then pack them à la Amy. I have a feeling that the bag you see may be over the weight limit, but I'll be able to even things out once I'm working with all four bags. Anyways, this is my bit of adoption excitement for this week.

An update

It looks as though we won't be going to get our son/daughter until at least May... so it'll be back to the garden center for me! A family from the last batch of referrals just got a court date for the end of April, which means that even if we got the referral call tomorrow, we wouldn't travel until after that family. I really did want to be the third "zyb." Oh well. On the bright side, this will definitely give us enough time to renew our immigration paper.

The third "zyb"

Some friends of ours, also adopting from Ethiopia, but through another agency, got news of their gorgeous daughter yesterday. We are so happy for them! And then, this morning, I found out that my friend, who lives across the pond, is going to have a baby! Such happy news! Rob and I would definitely love to be the third "zyb" on this baby trident; but alas, we wait...

A History of Modern Ethiopia

Well, I did it: I read almost all of A History of Modern Ethiopia by Bahru Zewde. Upon finishing it, I thought that maybe a second reading would be useful. You know how when something is familiar to you, it's more personally interesting? We'll see. Before any second attempts, however, I'm going to read Adopting the Hurt Child, which was recently suggested as an important read by our social worker.

Back to that first book that I mentioned though. There were so many connections, which, at the moment of making, eased the studying. The most interesting to me was this: An Albanian named Muhammed Ali went to Egypt and established a dynasty that lasted over a century. Part of his plan was to aggrandize his territories, partially by picking away at Ethiopia's western border. Now, this encouraged the formation of groups of "shifta" (bandits) on the Ethiopian side, for defense. One of these "shifta" was Kasa Haylu. Here he gained the experience and resolution to become one of Ethiopia's emperors, Emperor Tewodros. Now, just hang with me: Emperor Tewodros was contantly seeking European, mostly British, aide for his country, but this desire was confused by the sides played out in the Crimean War.

"What?" Let me explain. We began an adoption in Albania, but eventually changed to Ethiopia. AND, I lived in Crimea for two years! Confusion for you, maybe; but, connections for me.

And then, there is Dajjach/Ras Dames Nasibu, who was once governor of Wallega in Ethiopia. He looks uncannily like my dad. I couldn't stop staring at the photo of him. I've tried to find one on-line, to attach, but no such luck.

And finally, for my favorite quote from the book: Dajjach Webe Hayla-Maryam is supposed to have said, regarding two French brothers/scientists, "One collects our plants, another our stones; I do not know what you are looking for, but I do not want it to be in my country that you find it" (Rubenson, Survival, 54).