Personal problems in a developed country don’t last very long.
Have a headache? Pop a Tylenol.
Internet down? Call Verizon.
Dirty? Hop in a nice, hot shower with clean water.
Those growing up in a third world country are not so lucky.
In Ethiopia, if you’re hungry and there’s no food, it’s game over. You go to bed hungry. You wake up hungry. You work hungry. You live hungry. An everyday problem is a huge struggle.
What if a child becomes an orphan? If they’re lucky there will be an orphanage nearby to take them in. If not, the streets will have them at its mercy. They typically find jobs like shining shoes, work as an indentured servant for a family for room and board, or just try their luck begging for birr (their currency) from people who walk by a main road.
We live in a convenience-based culture, to say the least. Everything is literally at our fingertips and getting caught up in our own worlds is easy. We have too much to worry about in our own circle, let alone another part of the world.
The time I’ve had since I’ve returned from Ethiopia has allowed me to reflect on just how much I’ve been changed from the experience. I’ve had time to soak up their culture and their structure of life–to view things subjectively and objectively.
The people there have got it rough.. but what if maybe they’ve also got it right? They face many injustices in their world, but maybe their struggles bring them closer together to one another. It allows them to build a supportive community and rely on each other to get through problems. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? It’s easy to forget that with a helping hand, another smile, a soothing voice, a problem suddenly isn’t so bad anymore. It’s through these shared experiences that people get through life.
In Ethiopia, everything is shared. There is no concept as ‘personal space’ or ‘alone time’ or anything having to do with autonomy. On our way into Bonga, a young man around my age was sitting across from me and he picked up the book in my lap and started studying it. He held onto it for about 10 minutes, and even set it down onto his lap. Afterwards, he politely returned it without so much as a word. I was alarmed at first, but realized this is how it is. The man had no intention of stealing my book, he was just simply curious. And why shouldn’t he be?
Volunteering at Operation Smile was an experience I could have never imagined, nor will I ever forget. I fell in love with the organization, and the cause that they stand for. They are an amazing team of surgeons and nurses who work long hours in poor conditions to help fix cleft palettes and lips in third world countries. I went in thinking I would photograph some children going in for surgury, and came out with an added depth to my outlook on life. Although I was the one “helping”, I can tell you that these people did more to help me than I could have helped them.
It’s incredible to see the kind of impact a face deformity can have on a family here. In more developed cultures, a baby who is born with a cleft lip or palette is instantly rushed to have surgury a few rooms away in the hospital. Since more food is available in these countries, the mother is not likely to have a vitamin deficiency in the first place. In Ethiopia, this deformity is an act of God, and He did it on purpose. It’s a damnation against their family to teach someone a lesson. The children are not only labeled as an outcast by society, but their relatives as well. They are raised as problems and they spend a lot of time cut off from life outside of their home.
Mike was a translator and was interviewing several families as they were checking in their children before the surgery. He spoke with one elderly woman who was probably in her 60s. One of Mike’s questions was “how do you think [this relative/friend] got a cleft palette?” The woman’s reply was confident and simple: when she was young girl of ten or eleven, she made fun of another child who had a cleft lip. God wanted to teach her a lesson, so she was given a grand child with one.
When I faced the crowed early that first morning, a look of panic and despair filled their eyes. I did my best to keep a straight face, but about halfway in I could barely handle it. Mike had to take me aside and sit with me while I broke down for about 20 minutes. It’s not just the fact that these poor children have to endure this ‘damnation’ from their village — but it’s their general attitude. Somehow, these children seemed happy just to be alive. Although they were scared, they seemed so grateful for a smile sent their way, or a hand to hold. That’s all it took for them to smile. It’s a sad and beautiful thing to witness.
Just a few days of this really changed my perspective about a lot of things… especially how I define happiness. What brings you happiness? In our culture, it seems like the most obvious answer is something you plug into a wall. I think, for me, that true happiness comes from helping others. Seeing a baby’s face light up when I smiled at them, holding their hands, and (attempting) to talk Amharic to them made me realize what real happiness is. It doesn’t come from material things or hitting a personal goal. In fact, it has nothing to do with me at all — it comes from serving others.
“Service is both a means and an end,
for in giving to others,
you open yourself
to love, abundance, and inner peace.
You cannot serve others without uplifting yourself.”
-Dan Millman
I have omitted my logo because these pictures are less about my “brand” and more about their story — but they are still copyrighted by me, so no touchy!!
Mike helping a recovering girl drink some water
Carly, this is beautiful….just what I needed to read tonight. Thank you for sharing 🙂
Love it Carly! I am so lucky to know you and have you as a best friend. Your warmth, energy, and nurturing spirit inspire me constantly. Thank you for reminding us all to take a step down from the world we *think* we have to live in and the people we *think* we have to be.
I read your blog and said "I know," as I read through it. You and Mike ate welcome here anytime to meet Yonas aka Jonah. We're just west of Chantilly and South Riding.
These are amazing. I actually almost starting crying while reading/looking at the pictures. The colors are wonderful and vibrant. I am glad you had a good time and it opened your mind to the rest of the world.