Hope for Clinton's Clean Cookstove Initiative

Politics is a tricky subject to talk about at best. But if there is any place on Earth where politics need to receive the world's attention, it's Ethiopia. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton will be visiting Addis Ababa this week. Ostensibly, her focus will be Ethiopia as an ally of the United States. We have a shared interest in keeping Al-Qaeda in Somalia from spreading.

But it's not too much to hope that Secretary Clinton, when speaking with Ethiopian President Meles Zenawi, will address her support for the Alliance for Clean Cookstoves. This potentially life-saving initiative has the very achievable goal of providing women in developing nations with alternatives for traditional wood-fired cooking. http://cleancookstoves.org/overview/what-is-a-clean-cookstove/

In order for clean cookstoves to benefit urban Ethiopian women, President Zenawi will have to free up fuel sources. At present, women in Ethiopia must use wood since alternative fuels are not readily available. Hopefully, Secretary Clinton will persuade President Zenawi to take the high road. This will benefit family health (fewer inhaled toxins), the local economy (making fuel affordable) and the environment (keeping trees intact). Keep your fingers crossed.

Grace, the Amazing Kind

It's impossible to imagine a life that exists solely because of grace. But for the moms of the students at Fresh and Green Academy, amazing grace is what provides for their existence. Let me explain: these women experience life on a level that few Americans have witnessed, much less have imagined. Poor and uneducated, they came from rural areas of Ethiopia to the "big city" of Addis Ababa, only to find that jobs were nonexistent.

Homeless, they survived street life by selling the only thing they had: themselves. But some of the lucky ones chose to live northeast of the city in the neighborhood called Kotebe. There, one woman, Muday Mitiku took them under her guidance. She provided a free school for their children called Fresh and Green Academy. And she founded a Mothers' Cooperative so that these women could make crafts to sell, have food to eat for themselves and their other children, and have a roof over their heads. And most importantly, by providing the mothers with regular food, she has made them eligible for the life-saving medicine that changes HIV from a lethal into a manageable disease.

And all of this -- the school, the food, the rent, the education is funded by donations. The mothers exist solely on the sale of the crafts they make and donations made by complete strangers. People they will never meet.

Tonight, some strangers stopped by a crafts fair and bought and donated enough money to keep two families off the street for two months. It can only be chalked up to grace. The amazing kind, that is.

Why Africa? Why Now?

I see a lot of comments on news stories where people express the sentiment that Americans should be helping in America first; they wonder why we would devote time and money to people in other countries. It's a valid question, and one that has no easy answer. My heart breaks for the recent victims of the Boston bombings, and countless other problems in the United States, big and small: homelessness, animal cruelty, senseless violence ... the list goes on and on. And like most Americans, I do what I can to help out: it's in our nature to be generous to those in need.

A few friends who have just started to read my blog ask me if I've been to Kotebe and the answer is yes, three times. Why Africa and why this particular part of Africa, a continent with so much need?

Well, one reason is because I am able to go to Ethiopia at a discount; my husband works for the airlines. I would feel remiss if I wasn't able to use this great gift of travel to do something so important. And that's the crux of the matter. I choose to help because of Muday Mitiku. She has devoted her life to uplifting the residents of Kotebe. Ethiopia is Africa's second poorest country, and Kotebe is one of the poorest neighborhoods in Addis Ababa.

Not one penny is wasted and the work she is doing is so vital. Even the walls of the school are put to use, an ongoing reminder of lessons Muday would like the students to remember.

As my dad used to say: "Try to find just one little thing, and make it right." It's my hope that I can convey the intensity of the need, the desire of the people of Kotebe to have just a tiny slice of the pie. Their piece will never be as big as ours is, but in Kotebe, Muday, with your help, is making progress. And so I blog, and raise funds, and hope to go as often as I can. So, please, tell your friends, spread the word, because in that way, you too are finding just this one little thing that you can make right.

Through African Eyes

Xenophobia. It means fear of that which is foreign or strange. And it seems that everyone in the world has a touch of it. As Americans, we love the "red, white and blue," as well we should. Many of our friends and relatives (mine included) have fought under its banner. Our flag inspires us to be the best we possibly can; it embodies all that we feel we love about our country: landing on the moon, our independence, our generosity and countless other things about this, our amazing, free and brave homeland.

That being said, it's pretty easy for Americans to believe that we are the sole greatest country on earth. As David Sedaris says in Me Talk Pretty One Day:

"It's startling to realize that other countries have nationalistic slogans of their own, none of which are "We're number two!"

Funny. And poignantly true. Ethiopians believe the "green, yellow and red" are the embodiment of all that is great in their culture. And well they should. As the only country on the continent that was never colonized, the "green, yellow and red" of the Ethiopian flag were adopted as the "pan-African" colors. You'll see these colors in many of Africa's flags.

The reason this blog is in African colors is to pay tribute to all that is wonderful about the Ethiopian spirit. Through "African Eyes" as it were. Without meaning to proselytize, it would be a mistake for Americans to think that national pride is the exclusive province of Americans. It's everywhere. And Ethiopia, a country of 78+ million people with 83 languages and more than 200 dialects, is proud of its heritage, and rightfully so.

It's my hope to portray all that is great about Ethiopia and the Ethiopians and America and Americans without delving into politics, religion or other areas in which countries may disagree.Thanks for reading!

New Shoes Bring Big Smiles

Shoes. For many Americans, they're not just a necessity, they're an obsession: buying the latest fashion in dress shoes, the latest and greatest gym shoes, work shoes, summer sandals, winter boots ... some have closets devoted exclusively to their shoes.

It's kind of difficult to imagine never having had a new pair of shoes in your whole life. But for the 111 students at Fresh and Green Academy, that was exactly the case. Until last April. A group of volunteers chipped in and gave Muday enough money to buy each student a new pair of shoes.

Nice, sturdy lace-up shoes that will help them negotiate the steep, rocky trails almost all of them have to follow to go back and forth to school. The kids were ecstatic to get the new footwear, shouts of "Addis chamma!" ("New shoes!") rang out across the school yard. Just check out the giant smile on third-grader Bogale Kumela!

Of course, being kids, they're going to outgrow them. If you would like to help fund future shoe purchases for the students, please feel free to contact me at kmvilicich@sbcglobal.net. Thanks!

Meet Muday Mitiku

In Amharic, the word "muday" means a tiny container full of treasures. Muday certainly embodies her name. Standing at all of four-and-a-half feet tall, she is a dynamo of energy and light. Whether she is running around the school grounds or leading us to one of the mother's homes, it is difficult to keep up with her. She runs as if there is no time to waste and not enough hours in the day. The women, children and families of Kotebe could not have a better, or more devoted advocate, for truly she is working miracles: feeding and educating 111 children age three to third grade; running a cooperative for the mothers so that they can earn funds and become financially independent; teaching classes in hygiene and child-raising; and always, always looking for ways to better the lives of those around her. All this while caring for her six-month old daughter Shanti, her four-year-old daughter, Leah, her adopted son Yabsira and her wonderful and supportive husband, Anteneh (at right).

Anteneh is a surveyor. Together with Muday's income as an elementary school principal, they probably could afford to live in one of the middle-class neighborhoods of Addis Ababa. But they choose to live in Kotebe, on the grounds of the school in a two-room house with their bathroom accessible around the corner. (In fact, until last year the bathroom did not have running water; it was simply a hole in the ground. Thanks to some generous donations, it now has a full toilet, sink, bathtub and shower.)

Here is a picture of Muday and Anteneh's house. Looks can be deceiving: the door on the side of their building is the front entrance, and the door to the right of the yellow flower is the bathroom and also accesses separate space for a bedroom for Yabsira and some additional storage space. Their actual square footage on the inside of Muday's house is approximately ten feet by twenty feet for both rooms, and although it is quite nice, it would be considered impossibly small by most Americans.

Muday wants everyone to know that improving the lives of the people of Kotebe is not just a hobby, a passing fancy, or a part-time job. By living on the grounds of the school, Muday is showing her deep commitment to her community. A community she is lifting up out of hunger and poverty. She is truly one of the most inspirational people I have ever met.

This Thing Called Hope

The first time I saw the moms at work in the Mothers' Cooperative, they were sitting in a semi-circle in the courtyard of the school. Wearing traditional garb, they were swathed in headscarves and long skirts. Each had a project, a necklace, earrings, or some jewelry item that they were working on. Some smiled at us, the American volunteers, but most were engrossed in their work, while keeping an eye on their children who were at recess. Of course, once we walked in, it was pandemonium for the kids -- they ran to greet us like long-lost friends.

While I watched the moms talking softly among themselves with their solemn, lined faces, I imagined all of them to be in their late 30s. Looks can be deceiving: most of them are in their 20s and early 30s, which is middle-aged in Ethiopia. Life expectancy is only 45.

As the week progressed, I learned some of their stories: most grew up in small villages. In the 1980s, when most of them were children, it was a time of great famine in Ethiopia. And so, as soon as they got into their teens, they moved to Addis Ababa, thinking it would be the land of opportunity. But there was no work, nor food, to be found. Most of them turned to prostitution as they only way of staying alive. And most got pregnant, and most got HIV.

That is one common thread that runs through their lives. But the other commonality is this: Through Fresh and Green they have been given back their dignity. Through the jewelry and craft sales, they are able to afford food for themselves and their children. Most importantly, the meals they are now able to provide qualify them to receive the life-saving anti-retroviral drugs that have turned AIDS from a fatal to a manageable disease. Muday holds weekly classes in health and hygiene and they have learned how to keep themselves and their families healthy and strong. They have formed a sisterhood of trust and friendship in a city where life can be very unforgiving. In short, they are thriving.

Fresh and Green seems to me to be a magical place. Through Muday's vision, the entire neighborhood of Keteme has been transformed. With your help, not only the students, but their mothers have been given this one invaluable thing called hope.