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Posts Tagged ‘Ethiopia’

Blog post by Maria D., a Kindness Investor from Washington, DC.

Tadiyass! (that means hello in Amharic)

Well friends, I had the pleasure of meeting Asrat last weekend and would like to introduce him to you all. I have only taken a cab 3 or 4 times since moving to the DC area in October 2010. Serendipitously, out of the few times I have hailed a random cab, I’ve had the good fortune to ride with Asrat twice! Each time I was feeling low but both time we cheered each other up by chatting about topics ranging from national politics to Neti pots.  That is to me what being human is all about – connecting with one another.

 

Anyway,  Asrat is originally from Ethiopia and has resided in the DC/MD area for the past 8 years.  He has some family here but most are still in Ethiopia and it has been a long time since Asrat has seen them.  He sends money and other things home and works incredibly hard everyday as a cab driver in order to take care of himself and others.  In fact, both times I have met him, he’s just started a second shift after a brief nap at home.
Asrat’s life can be rough at times, but he did have some advice for those currently un- or underemployed, “Work hard to find a job.  You don’t have to wait, it’s not easy, but you don’t need to depend on others.”
It was this hard work ethic that may have lead him to do what he did with the $10 I handed over.  “I’ll give it back to you, thank you.”  It was a kind gesture, but not surprising coming from a kind man.  Even though Asrat thoroughly enjoys engaging with others on the job, he is often concerned for his safety.  As such, what would Asrat want or need from us?  A safer job.  Not too much, if you ask me…

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This weekend we had a snapshot of the cold that awaits us this winter.  This morning it was near freezing when I went to the gym.

Today’s post took place during a really busy work wise.  Long days followed by work related events in the evening.  After an event at the Brazilian embassy, I headed across town to meet up with a friend of mine from Spain who I hadn’t seen for years.  Although it was late, this was our only chance to meet up so you push yourself a little and try to squeeze everything in.

Exhausted, I hailed a cab home to my apartment in Dupont.  The driver was a man named Tekele.  He was really nice and I enjoyed talking with him.  Originally from Ethiopia, he’s been driving a cab here in DC for 18 years.  Before that he worked almost nine years for PMI, a leading parking management firm.  “I like driving a taxi very much,” he told me.  “But you have to be really disciplined to do well at this,” since you work your own hours and set your own schedule for the most part. 

Having been in the business for such a long time, he has seen it all.  “Just other day a guy got in my cab and told me to go to Georgia Avenue,” he began to tell me.  “Then he fell asleep.  When we got there I tried to wake him up but he was really sleeping hard.”  Tekele finally got the man out of his cab.

There is a large Ethiopian community in DC.  Tekele says that many people like himself fled his homeland as a result of the civil war that began there in the 70s.  “I originally escaped to Italy,” he told me explaining that he spent six months there until Catholic Charities arranged for him to come to the United States.  He hasn’t traveled back to Ethiopia much.  “It’s so expensive especially with kids,” the father of three told me. 

Ethiopian platter at Etete

I shared with him that I had tried Ethiopian food many years ago and didn’t care for it.  This is odd too because I like almost all kinds of foods from other countries.  Especially spicy food, like Ethiopian food.  I guess I just had a bad experience because I recently went to a place called Etete at the corner of 9th and U Streets and tried it again and really enjoyed it.  The injera, a spongy flatbread made with a thin sourdough batter, took a little getting used to.  “Etete is a good place,” Tekele confirmed. 

We got to my place and I explained my Year of Giving to him and asked him to accept my $10.  He agreed and I paid him the fare and tip plus the ten dollars. 

I got home and realized I totally forgot to ask him what he was going to do with the money!  It was late and I was really tired.  He had given me his cell number so I called him on Sunday October 31st and asked him.  He was happy to hear from me and explained that he had donated the money to his local Virginia police department.  Hopefully he gave it to the actual department and not the Fraternal Order of Police.  I’ve had a very bad experience with the telephone solicitors from that organization and no longer give to them.

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Would you believe that I managed to find two consecutive recipients who were originally born in Ethiopia?  Well I did!  Today I am excited to introduce you to Bekele!

I met Bekele in downtown Washington, DC at a parking garage where he has worked for the past seven years.  The first thing you notice about him is his radiant smile.  He is happy and makes you feel happy when you speak to him.  Although he is 47 and the father of four (including a 26-year-old son), he doesn’t look his age. 

Born in Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia, Bekele moved to the United States nine years ago to avoid social and political unrest in his homeland.  He has built a life here in the United States for him and his family.  “I am so happy to be here in the US,” he told me with a huge smile. 

“Being here has changed my life.”  Now a US citizen, Bekele decided to go back to school a few years ago and recently received his associate’s degree in accounting.  He hopes to find a job where he can apply the skills he has learned while at the same time work toward finishing his bachelor’s degree.

I am amazed at how well Bekele speaks English.  I have lived overseas and know first hand how hard it can be to speak another language well.  He grew up speaking Amharic, a Semitic language spoken predominantly in North Central Ethiopia.  I congratulated him for the effort that he has placed on his own education.  He shrugged it off.  It’s just another way that Bekele continually learns and educates himself. 

Check out this short video of my conversation with him.

I was cognizant that he was working and didn’t want to monopolize his time.  I asked where my $10 would end up and he smiled and said that he had not eaten lunch and would go and buy him something to eat.  We said good-bye and he left me with the same infectious smile that he greeted me with.

Happy belated Father’s Day to Bekele!

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Today was bitter cold and windy.  The temperatures will approach 0 Fahrenheit over night with the wind-chill factor.  I went out around 9pm to look for a recipient of today’s $10.  With the weather so cold, I thought I would look for someone who was spending the night out in the cold.  They could probably use the $10 and I could let them know about the shelters.

From a distance, I saw Peter very methodically laying some blankets down on a wooden bench.  As I got closer, I could see that he was well prepared for the cold.  He had on several layers and I could only see from his eyes to the tip of his nose, the rest was protected from the frigid air.  The eyes, ivory with dark pupils, contrasted against the rich dark skin of his face.  Peter and I talked for a while. 

Originally from Sudan, I wondered how he could manage outside on a night like tonight, but he said he would be fine.  This was his first night he said in the cold, the other nights he had been staying in the shelters but he said people were bothering him there so he decided to sleep outside.  I urged him to consider going to a shelter, but he resisted. 

Peter never fully understood what I was doing.  And I never fully understood why he refused to take my $10, but he did.  We continued to talk and he finally conceded that if he and I were to meet again, then he would accept my $10.  I asked where he was during the day or if he would be back there to sleep again, but didn’t get a solid answer.  I went on my way to look for someone else.  All the while thinking about the conversation I just had.  I will keep my eyes open for Peter in the coming days.  After all, he and I made a promise.

Not far away, I saw someone in a cove-like area off of one of Washington’s many traffic circles.  They appeared to be settling in as well.  They had on so much clothing that I could not tell if it was a man or a woman until I got closer.  When I got about 15 feet away, I saw that there was another person sleeping nearby, completely covered by a gray blanket. 

Ayalew had his back to me, so I approached with caution as to not startle him.  I called out a friendly greeting and he looked over his left shoulder.  He too was very well covered.  His head was almost lost in the three layers of colorful hats and hoods he had on.  The 52-year-old said he has been here in DC for about a year.  He is a gentle man with a warm smile.  His soft words hide behind his beard.  I asked him where he was from originally as I detected an accent and experienced some minor challenges understanding one another.  “I am American”, he said.  I would have guessed he was from the Middle East.  A quick Google of the name Ayalew lead me to believe he is Ethiopian. 

I speak softly so that we don’t disturb the person sleeping a few feet away.  I ask my new friend if he would consider going to a shelter tonight to avoid potential frostbite.  He smiles and says that he is fine.  “I have so much clothes and personal items, that I prefer not to go to the shelter because I can not look after my things” he adds. 

I explain the Year of Giving and ask him if he will accept my $10.  He readily accepts and I hand him over two five dollar bills.  He says he will use the money to buy some breakfast tomorrow morning and some more food later this week. 

I am not quite ready to leave despite the pain I feel in my almost numb fingers.  I am somewhat intrigued by Ayalew.  Our conversation is comfortable, going back and forth like calm ocean waves reaching the shore.  He tells me a little about his family and that several family members, including his mother, are living in Texas and will be coming to DC soon.  He and his family hope to get a job some place in exchange for the rent of a room.  In the mean time, he says he spends most of his time reading and studying. 

As I started to leave, I told him about Adam’s Place, the emergency shelter that I had heard of yesterday.  He smiled, but said nothing.  I shook his hand and wished him a safe and warm night.

My walk home took about 10 minutes.  Despite my multiple layers of clothing, my body was cold and stiff.  I covered my face and picked up the pace.  I am so fortunate for what I have.  I take for granted the roof over my head and the “endless” supply of heat that keeps me warm inside.  When I am hungry, I need only to open the refrigerator or the cupboard and I am greeted by a myriad of delicious options.  Meeting and talking to Peter and Ayalew made me appreciate this.  They gave me something far more valuable than $10.

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