Where the Streets Have No Name. (Part 1)

Looking at the kids playing soccer. (almost...no really envying their skills.)



Trying to understand what they are teaching me. Quote from Mike:" My language easy understand" No it is not!!

Learning to count to 15. Successfully finished (and remembered !)



Abel playing soccer. He is goooooooood !!!!!!

Kids getting thier names written down.


After arriving late on Saturday night/Sunday Morning, our group crashed at the EGH (Ethiopia Guest Home) and woke at around 7 to prepare for church. After an amazing church service at Beza International, our group came back to the guest home to relax for the day. Of course, most of us were ready to do something by 3 or so in the afternoon because, well, who just wants to sit around while you are in Ethiopia! So me, mom, and J from our trip went right outside the guesthome to the street to kick the soccer ball around with some kids playing. Little did I know it would probably change the rest of my life.

Out there to start with there was Abel, Abraham, and Curibin (since I don't exactly know how to spell his name I'm going with this). I thought we could just kick around the ball, laugh, have a little fun right. NO. We walk out, ask them to play with us, and Abel starts picking team.

You.You.You.One Team.
You.You.You.One Team.

Lets just say he totally stacked his team (and he knew it) and by 10 minutes his team was up 5 points and about 10 other kids were standing on the side, most of them laughing at my soccer skills (or lack there of). Abel continued to stack his team with the incoming of friends, and gave my team the little girls that came to insure his 20 something-0 lead. Around 2/3 of our group came out starting talking with kids, asking them questions, playing around, and after an hour or so of soccer, everyone was getting tierd.

Me and AJ (my best friend who also attended the trip) started talking to Matthew and Curibin. I began asking them pharses in Amharic to learn. I figured out kids there lloovvee to do this because it makes them feel smart and makes us seem less smart (which to little kids is a good thing). yeah, yeah, yeah talking went on and after a while we had to go back to eat dinner. That night these boys were not consuming my mind, nagging on my heart, or causing a lack of sleep. These kids were just kids to me. Then.