Celebrating the Culture

The May day was breezy and cold outside, but inside the room was filled with warmth. Ethiopian music pumped from the speakers, smells of wat wafted through the air and children of all ages darted around in traditional clothing as elders sat eying them with pride. On stage, teenage girls danced the eskesta, that dazzling shoulder dance, their bone-straight hair flying in unison around their heads. It felt both familiar and distinctive. A bit like a black family reunion, but different.

The biggest difference for me, of course, was my daughter's presence. She gave us our reason for being at this Cultural Day Celebration -- and entree into a world I've fast fallen in love with. Thanks to her, I  launched into a rich discussion with the woman beside me. She'd been eying how adeptly my daughter ate her injera, and I told her, "She's only been with us for one month."
     "Ah! Okay!" she said. "There was something so familiar in how she ate it, I was thinking to myself that they have taught her very well." We chatted. She gave me the number of the woman in Harlem who makes injera and sells it from her home. She then gave me her own number. "Call me if there is anything I can do for you," she said.

Thanks to my daughter, I met a man who once lived in the very region where she was born. I marveled at  the ease with which he played with her, and it reminded me of the men at her orphanage in Addis Ababa -- the driver, the security guards, the doctor. All of them so loving and affectionate with the children.

My son became fast friends with an adopted Ethiopian boy, and we parents promised to get them together soon. My husband got into an intense conversation with a woman who is in the process of adopting, offering her insights and guidance.

I, who love community, who seek it out in myriad ways, felt our family embraced.

"This is a wonderful thing you have done," said the Ethiopian woman sitting next to me.

Truth is, my daughter is the one who has done a wonderful thing for me. That's what I kept thinking as I sat there, watching her happily eat her injera.

Comments

[Lyvonne Lees]

I just found your page - while looking for haircare tips for my two adopted Ethiopian daughters. All I have to say is "thank you". Thank you for recoginizing the beauty and challenges faced by parents adopting internationally. We are both caucasion, we have six bio children and 4 beautiful Ethiopian children. NEVER in all our travels have we met such wonderful, warm, caring people as we did in Ethiopia. It truly saddened me to have strangers in Ethiopia walk up to us and say "Bless you for what you are doing". We are the ones who are blessed to have these wonderful children in our lives. Now we realize what they have lost by leaving this wonderful country and her blessed people. We are doing all we can to help their families still there and we are hoping to go back and visit soon. Again, thank you for your blog, it is truly uplifting. I have recently been judged by several African American women that do not understand that we are trying to help our daughter grow her hair out and want us to use chemicals and keep it braided. We are trying to help her to love her own hair, always.