July 7, 2006

Before we left the United States, my dad asked me to see if I could find a piece of African wood to bring back for him. He is a woodworker, and is interested in different types of wood. The other day, I asked the students in my class where I might find a piece of wood that is indigenous to Ethiopia. I had been told that Wanza would be a good choice, so I specified to them that I needed to find a piece of Wanza wood for my father. Ashegre, one of my students, told me that he had a friend who is a woodworker. He arranged for us to meet the next day so that he could supply me with the wood that I wanted.

The next day, after class was over, I had lunch with Ashegre - Injiera and Wut - and then we headed to meet his friend. We rode the mini-bus, the favorite mode of transportation here in Addis Ababa, and arrived in Mechanisa, a small neighbor a few miles from the school. We stopped at a little café to wait for Ashegre’s friend. As we waited, we had the opportunity to discuss theological issues in Ethiopia as compared with America. As it turns out, many of the issues really aren’t that different. The topic we discussed this time was miracles and speaking in tongues. Are these gifts still active today, or not?

Anyway, Ashegre’s friend eventually showed up (you have to understand that in Ethiopian culture, there is never any hurry...things happen when they happen). Mulugeta (which means “Great Lord”, or “King”) greeted us. At first we weren’t sure what was wrong with his right hand, but later he told us that he had cut off all four fingers with a table saw just this past February. A tragic accident, but he seemed cheerful enough despite the setback. So we talked about the wood I wanted, and we agreed that he would find some and have it delivered to me early the next week. He wanted to know what size and what kind of wood, so we decided that it should be 50cm X 30 cm X 2 cm. Then he told me that he would go the next day to the Mercado and purchase a piece for me. I had expected to go and see his work shop, and then to find a piece of scrap there, but once again, Ethiopia showed me a different way of doing things. Then I asked Mulugeta where his workshop was. I asked him if we could go and see it, and he agreed. We walked up the road, and down another smaller road, through a typical Addis neighborhood. As we passed one gate, Mulugeta said, “This is my home, would you like to come in?” We agreed, and I was introduced to his small one room home, which he rents. It is actually attached to a larger house, but has a separate entrance, and no windows. Inside was one bed, a small couch, and a couple of shelves. He offered tea, which is a very typical Ethiopian custom. Having just had a coffee (“buna”) I declined, and he understood. We sat and talked about different things, and eventually I asked about where to buy Ethiopian music. He had a CD that he let me listen to on his CD player. I asked him where I could purchase a CD like this. He said I could buy his, and he would go later and buy another one for himself. But then, in typical Ethiopian style, he said he wanted to give it to me. It is so hard to accept such a gift in such a manner. The people here don’t have much, but what they have they willingly give away! It is quite humbling.

We left Mulugeta’s home and walked down the street a little further. We finally came to another gate, and went inside. There on the left was a shack, which he told me was his workshop. It was a building surrounded with corrugated tin, and covered with a large blue tarp. Inside was a table saw (the ground was natural, grass and dirt), and several clamps hanging on one wall. I took a picture, and we talked about his desire to eventually buy more machinery. I told him about my dad’s workshop, which must have sounded like woodworker’s heaven to him. Then we headed back up the street where I caught a mini-bus that took me back home.