a year ago this evening

I want to go back.

I want to step through the gate in the early evening and walk the rutted, sun-warmed streets, around the corner to the small shop for a bottled Mirinda, kez kaza. It is exactly the same as three other shops on the same corner but this one is ours because the owner likes us and laughs at our broken Amharic. She lets us leave with the bottles and knows we'll bring them back: there is no such thing as garbage here, no trash in the street because everything is valuable to someone.

I want to sit on a metal chair on the sidewalk eating angel hair pasta with meat sauce and a hint of berbere. There are three kinds of wat on the menu but they are all out of them tonight. I want a tall glass of thick, sweet mango juice, and then another when that one spills in my lap.

I want to shiver a little as the sun sets and order macchiatos that we really shouldn't drink at this hour. It's OK because we're too American to finish them anyway. Twenty minutes later we realize they'll never bring us the check if we don't ask; the fistful of birr we hand over for dinner wouldn't buy a tall latte back home.

I want to walk back to the guest house slowly, feeling the ache of a full belly in a hungry place. The guard comes down the street looking for us, more out of boredom than necessity. He gives shy smiles and nods to answer our small-talk questions but I'm fairly certain he doesn't understand more than a word or two.

Tonight the dogs will fight in the street while the mosques and churches blare their competing calls to prayer. The hopeful salesman will start hawking his wares outside the window at dawn and the goats will bleat sorrowfully. We'll be sleeping in our quiet house a world away. I still want to go back.

[the other side of the same coin.]

mesob mischief and miscellany

I really want to write a post about race, but I'm a little bit scared I don't have time tonight, so instead I will share this photo of Z at the YWAM Ethiopia Melkam Genna event last weekend:



This week has been ever-so-slightly better than last week. Progress! I am taking extra time each day to remind Z that he is loved and safe; I hope it is sinking in.

Last week I was at the Ethiopian market by our house and struck up a conversation with another patron. He asked if Z was adopted, and then asked what part of Ethiopia he was from. As it turned out, this man was from a town just 20 minutes from Z's birth place! He was so excited to tell me that there are many Ethiopians from that region in Seattle and he invited me to come to his church. I cracked up when he pointed to Z and told me, "I have two small children at home and they look just like him!" We exchanged contact information and I'm hoping we can connect again soon. I continue to be amazed by the friendliness and hospitality of the Ethiopian community here! What a blessing for families like ours.

Stay tuned for heavier stuff (maybe)...

*Mesob is the Amharic word for the woven basket that Z is sitting in. :)

prayer warrior

We say prayers with Z before bedtime and naps each day. Like good Presbyterians, we fold our hands and close our eyes and speak softly, thanking God for his blessings and praying for our friends, family, and others around the world. Lately, after I finish saying prayers, Z wants to say his own prayers: he scrunches up his face, hunches his shoulders, and mumbles unintelligibly. Sometimes he throws in some wild hand gestures or sways from side to side, and on rare occasion I can make out a word or two (usually a name of someone we have seen that day). It absolutely cracks me up because it is not like anything he has seen people here do when they pray... I guess they must have had some pretty rockin' prayer sessions at the Widow & Orphan homes! It is amazing to see the little treasures he has kept with him from that time.

In other news, he is thoroughly enjoying his first Christmas season in America! Ever since his 2nd birthday in April, he has been a huge fan of all things birthday related, so the fact that Christmas is Baby Jesus' birthday makes it extra special in his book. Merry Christmas everyone!

memories

We are making lots of fun new memories together this season, but it was an old memory that blew me away yesterday.

Z was playing with a little fleece scarf as I prepped dinner. This kid loves to accessorize, so he was having a good old time finding different ways to wear the scarf and I was not paying too much attention -- just thankful to have him occupied while I cooked. "Baby back-pack-pack?" (That's his word for backpack - he throws the extra syllable in there just for fun.) I looked over at him and was confused for a minute. He had wrapped the scarf around his belly and was smiling up at me like he'd done something clever. "Z baby back-pack-pack!" he announced. Oh! Finally silly mommy got it: he was pretending to have a baby wrapped on his back with the scarf. Which he has not seen since he left Ethiopia nine months ago. How crazy is that? Makes me wonder what else he remembers... My psychology background tells me that by the time he is old enough to answer the question "What do you remember from Ethiopia?" he will not have much, if anything, to say. I know that in my head, but my heart longs to hear so much more.



We can't do much to help Z keep his old memories, but we are having lots of fun making new ones together. This season has been particularly sweet, as we watch Z take in all the new experiences of his first Christmas season in America. Surprises so far: he was not scared to meet Santa and he is totally unfazed by the huge fir tree in our house. Not-so-surprising: he made loud silly noises through our whole Advent candle lighting and family devotional time, he's loving the Fisher Price nativity set, and he thinks candy canes are the best thing ever. Can't argue with that!

cooking ethiopian

Today is New Year's Day in Ethiopia: Melkem Addis Amet! In honor of the holiday, I'm sharing some of our experiences in cooking traditional Ethiopian food.

One of my favorite memories from Z's first week home is of watching him devour a whole plate of shiro wat and injera (thanks again for bringing it over, Melissa & Nathan!). He was not a great eater in those first days (or weeks or months), but Ethiopian food was almost always a big hit with him. Seeing him swipe a piece of injera across his plate always made me smile twice over: once for the joy of a conflict-free meal and again for the delightful and distinctly Ethiopian flick of the wrist Z used to scoop up his food.

For the first few months our culinary needs were met by a sweet and generous Ethiopian friend of mine and the occasional trip to Tagla Cafe. But recently I've gotten brave and tried my hand at making a few simple dishes. I've heard injera is pretty tricky to make (you have to get the fermentation just right or its a gloppy mess), so I just buy it at an Ethiopian market, along with spices, shiro, and lentils. Here are the recipes for the dishes I have tried so far, along with a few notes about each:

Crock-Pot Doro Wat

Recipe adapted from A Year of Slow Cooking

1 can diced tomatoes

1.5 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs

1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons butter
3 large onions, diced
2 tablespoons berbere (traditional Ethiopian spice)
2 cups water
8 hard boiled eggs, peeled

Add all ingredients except the boiled eggs to a 6 quart crock pot in the order listed above. Cook 7-8 hours on low, adding eggs for last 15 minutes.

I had chicken breasts on hand, so I used those instead of chicken thighs, but I wouldn't do that next time because they are not as tender. I used a little bit less water than the recipe calls for because I wanted to serve it over injera, not in a bowl, so I didn't want it to be too soupy. I also shredded the chicken, but you probably wouldn't need to do that if you used thighs. The berbere gives this dish an Ethiopian flavor, but other than that it was nothing like the doro wat you will get in Ethiopia or at a traditional restaurant. Despite the lack of authenticity, it was definitely tasty and I'll make it again.

Shiro Wat

I got this recipe from the woman who was working at the Ethiopian market - thankfully it is simple and I still remembered it when I got home.

Butter or olive oil

Onion

Garlic

Shiro

Dice the onion as finely as possible and cook it in butter or oil (for a single batch I use 1 onion and 2-3 tablespoons of butter). Cook until the onion is very soft and beginning to brown. Add a bit of finely chopped garlic during the last minute of cooking, but don't over-do it -- my first attempt was way too garlicky. Add about 1.5 cups of water to the onions and garlic and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to med-low and slowly stir in 4-6 tablespoons of shiro, adding 1 tablespoon at a time and then stirring to prevent clumps. It is a little tricky to tell when you have added enough shiro, as the sauce will thicken a bit while it cooks. You are looking for a nice, thick, oatmeal-like consistency so keep adding, stirring, and cooking until you get there. If you want your shiro wat to be very smooth the way its served in restaurants you can transfer it to a food processor, give it a whirl, and then return it to the pot to finish cooking. Scoop a generous spoonful onto a plate of injera and enjoy!

Misr Wat

Recipe from Saveur.com

1 cup small red lentils

4 tbsp butter

1 small onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tbsp berbere
1 small tomato, diced
Salt, to taste

Rinse the lentils in cold running water and set aside. Heat the butter in a medium saucepan, add the onion and cook until soft. Just like the shiro wat recipe, add the garlic when the onions are almost done and cook for a minute or two. Then add 1 tbsp of berbere, the lentils, the diced tomato and 4 cups of water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 50-60 minutes, stirring occasionally. Season liberally with salt, and add as much of the remaining 1 tbsp of berbere as you dare... I don't add more than 1/4 tbsp and that is plenty of spice for me (and I like spicy food). Serve it over injera and get ready to dish up seconds -- it is delicious! I make a batch for my kids with only a total of 1/4 tbsp berbere and they do OK with it (though my big boys prefer to just eat the injera plain with ketchup... Americans!). This is by far my favorite dish that I've made so far, and the most authentic tasting, plus it is crazy easy. Love it.

Anyone else tried cooking Ethiopian? What worked (or didn't)? Share your recipes and tips -- I'd love to try a few more dishes. Oh and my husband is requesting meat next time... Tibs anyone?