Making a change: A dirty, dusty road, but a light at the end of the tunnel

Laureen Lund

Making a change

How do I tell this story? I’m not a good enough columnist to do it justice. The only way I can begin is to say I have experienced an unbelievable thing.

In all my world travels, in all my life’s blessings, nothing has compared to what has happened to me in the past few months.

First, let me tell you that we rode a bus nine hours to the city of Jimma, the birthplace of coffee. About a mile outside of town, we were greeted by the local Jimma Rotarians for a welcome ceremony in the middle of the road. This was the preface to a series of remarkable events on this trip to Ethiopia to vaccinate polio.

Following the ceremony, our buses were led into town with escorts — horns blaring, lights flashing, music blasting. We were paraded several times around the streets of this town of about 100,000 people.

For the first time on this long trip, the experience brought me to cry openly. Why were these people so enamored with us? Who are we? Who am I? I am nobody.

But they seemed to see it differently.

Kids chased the bus and cheered us. Men stopped what they were doing to salute us. Women lifted their hands to the sky with praise and blessings for us.

I was moved, but I was fearful that we — or, more specifically, I — could not possibly begin to fulfill the high expectations these beautiful people had for our group.

Still, we waved and laughed, and we waved some more.

Finally, we arrived at the hotel. When I saw my room, I was speechless. The room cost was $10 a night, and I would say it was worth about $5.

I thought I would be writing an entire column about the horrors of my two nights in this filthy room, but after what happened the next day, the room and the bugs that shared it with me no longer seemed important.

Vaccination Day — After more ceremony, coffee, music and dancing, we were split into groups to go out into the jungle and begin polio vaccinations.

I was luckily paired with a mother-son team from the Seattle Rotary Club, Maureen and Joey Brotherton. We were a good match.

After being taken on and off several small vans, we ended up on a bus with local Ethiopian Rotarians from Addis Ababa. Then we set off on an adventure.

We left the paved road after an hour on the bus and began a bumpy rumble through the jungle for another hour. We passed a few small villages and continued bumping along until a rock punctured the radiator — and there we were, at least two hours from civilization and transportation.

We sat on the road and waited. The local Rotarians had sporadic cell phone service, so they worked the problem while we paced the dirty road. We had been advised earlier to keep our eyes open for both baboons and lions on this road.

That was all well and good while I was in the car!

Many locals passed us on foot, going about their daily chores. They hauled large packs of wood on their backs and bundles of who-knows-what on their heads.

A group of young people clothed in spectacular colors passed, and the interpreter spoke to them and explained to us they were returning from a funeral in another village.

An old man and a younger man passed with machetes. The interpreter spoke to them and they explained that they carry the machetes to protect themselves in the jungle from animals.

Oh, God, I wish I had a machete.

One of the local Rotarians borrowed a machete and took a small tree down to make a bench for Maureen and I to sit on.

Then, all of the sudden, a car appeared from the United Nations.

Before I go further with my story, let me talk a little about the U.N. Even though I am a fairly well-informed American, I know little about what the United Nations does. I know it as a tall, skinny building in New York with a big round table that world leaders meet around. That’s about it.

Since arriving in Ethiopia, I learned that Rotary International was instrumental in the formation of the United Nations. Today, the World Health Organization is an arm of the United Nations, and the WHO is Rotary’s partner in national polio immunizations in Africa.

The United Nations is our savior here for border control, safety, health and diplomacy. It serves a major function in helping the people here and protecting those of us from the outside. I have a greater respect for the work they do.

And thank God for Teddy, who arrived in a land cruiser with air conditioning and bottled water. We were saved!

In the U.N. car, we continued on the dirty, dusty road for another hour. They stopped to eat, and at this point, we were met by Ezra Teshome in another vehicle. Teshome is from Seattle, and he’d heard our distress call.

By this time, it was so late in the day that we thought our opportunity to vaccinate had vanished. They asked if we wanted to continue or go back. We decided we had come this far, so we should continue.

It was the best decision we made.

What happened to us next is nearly indescribable and a once-in-a-lifetime event.

My emotions runneth over.

Humanitarian mission

Laureen Lund of Gig Harbor traveled to Ethiopia this fall as part of a humanitarian mission with Rotary International.

This is the first of a two-part column about her experience. To read her thoughts while she was in Africa, visit blogs.gateline.com and click on “Laureen Lund in Ethiopia” from the categories list.

Look for part two of Laureen Lund’s column in the Dec. 10 issue of The Peninsula Gateway.