Our travel back to Addis Ababa started with a beautiful Dessie morning – clear, sunny and roosters crowing. Several members of our team had decided to avoid the ten-hour van ride (we can’t imagine why) from Dessie to Addis Ababa, by taking a plane from the Dessie International Airport (or should I say the “airport”). For those of you who can’t imagine it, we’ve included a picture of the runway and the jet way. Four team members returned to Dessie a few hours ahead of the rest (rather than seven hours ahead of the rest) because the one plane for the day arrived in Dessie nearly four hours late.

The rest of the team began the hair-raising cross-country van experience. The experience was especially hair-raising today, because it began to rain and because of our drivers. Although we returned to Addis without incident, our nerves were shot.

The cross-country images always burn an indelible spot in my brain – waste being put into rain run-off in one location, women washing their hands just downstream; women carrying immensely large bundles of heavy sticks, followed by young men in groups, carrying nothing or, even better, with a “football” at their feet. The more we try to understand about the country, the more the paradoxes show themselves. I think it will take a few more visits before we can say we “know” these people. And I am also convinced that they will not stop treating us as guests until we “know” them and they “know” us.