A U.S. delegation of 14 Catholic Relief Services staff members and Church partners recently visited CRS projects in Ethiopia. Steve Pehanich, senior director of advocacy and education for the California Catholic Conference, shares final thoughts from the field.

Our last day in Dire Dawa began with a tour of a warehouse where Catholic Relief Services stores food donated by the U.S. government for various relief activities. The warehouse is not at all like one we would think of in the States, but is instead a series of large tents. Stacked to the brim with wheat, rice, lentils and other sacks of food, the tents create a very orderly and neat compound.

The CRS delegation gathers in front of thousands of sacks of food donated by the U.S. government. Photo by Debbie DeVoe/CRS

The food sits in stacks on pallets for ventilation and protection from rodents. Great care is taken to address any spoilage or other issues that might arise. The food cannot be at the site for more than three months.

As part of our visit, CRS Ethiopia staff prepared typical dishes made by recipient families using the types of food donated. It was all very good and not all that different from what we might eat in the States: rice with tomato, porridge for the children, wheat cakes and so on. Several of us made a lunch of it, and the Ethiopian staff ate most of all.

The next day, after a moving visit to a Missionaries of Charity site and an interesting discussion with the U.S. ambassador to Ethiopia, we visited the Organization for Social Services for AIDS, another CRS partner in the capital of Addis Ababa.

This non-profit organization that helps people with HIV and AIDS was founded in 1989, when people still had almost no idea what the disease really was. OSSA is massive, operating in every region of Ethiopia, except one. They test for HIV, help orphans, educate communities and perform all the other necessary functions to reduce HIV infection and eliminate suffering.

Three clients shared their stories with us: Elesabet, an HIV-positive mother of five children, who is also struggling with breast cancer; Hannah, 18, and Zacharias, 10, who watched their parents die years before; and “Grandma,” an elderly woman caring for five grandchildren. OSSA is helping all of these people and many more. It is truly amazing.

As if this weren’t enough for one day, our final visit was to the home of seven orphans, five of whom were still living together. Our CRS vehicles turned onto a narrow alley, muddy from a recent cloudburst, and then stopped by an even narrower alley. We walked the last 50 yards, picking our way along a path that smelled of human waste, into an area with mud huts that housed seven or eight families—we couldn’t tell how many.

Eighteen-year-old Belin lives with her 22-year-old brother and three other siblings aged 16, 13 and 9 in a room no more than 16 feet by 8 feet. At the very back of the room is a bunk bed, with a poster of California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger during his bodybuilding days hanging in the far upper left corner. Even in this humble home, which many would call a hovel, the orphans’ neighbor performed a coffee ceremony for us—greeting us with popcorn to cleanse our palates, followed by small cups of strong Ethiopian espresso. These orphans have supported themselves, with OSSA’s assistance, for the last five years since their mother died, their father having passed away five years before. And yet they greeted us with smiles and shared their stories without despair.

This was a very tough day and one that I will ponder for some time.

A delegation of 14 US-based CRS staff members and Church partners are currently visiting projects in Ethiopia. Steve Pehanich, senior director of advocacy and education for the California Catholic Conference, shares more from the field.

Much of the lowlands we visited are deforested, forcing pastoralist communities to take their livestock further east or south for grazing.
Photo by Steve Pehanich for CRS

After seeing the midlands and highlands near Dire Dawa on Tuesday, we toured the lowlands Wednesday — much hotter, with a rocky road that was incredible to travel. It took more than an hour each way on the road, which added to the tiredness of the day.

Before reaching the project site, we stopped on the grueling road to look at the surrounding desert. Zemede Abebe, program director for Haraghe Catholic Secretariat (basically the local equivalent of Catholic Charities and CRS’ partner in the area), explained that a watershed is a self-contained micro environment. Start at the top of a mountain and follow the water down until you get the lowest point — a valley is a good example. Then picture a series of valleys, each with its own micro-shed. All of them combined form a macro-shed.

The watershed along the road had been destroyed by deforestation and overgrazing, resulting in stunted plant growth and barrenness. Zemede wanted us to note the conditions here so we could appreciate the difference when we arrived at the community of Legedini.

First, though, we stopped at a man-made pond where livestock drink. Cows, sheep and goats were coming and going like clockwork. It was quite an idyllic setting and soothing to see the animals come and go.

The community of Legedini is now an oasis due to watershed protection efforts. Photo by Steve Pehanich for CRS

Finally we arrived at the community of Legedini, the site of many CRS-supported projects. By helping Legedini residents to manage their watershed, HCS has been able to return the land to its original state before it was deforested. One of the things I found most startling was the coolness. We went from a hot desert to a pleasant temperature just by crossing a ridgeline.

The protected watershed has recharged the groundwater, providing the community with clean water for multiple uses. Crop yields and the health of livestock have also improved as a result. One of the farmers told us that he had substantially improved his family’s condition by growing crops and raising and selling livestock with CRS’ and HCS’ support. Through income gained by selling some of these assets, his children now attend school. It’s amazing how little additional work it takes to transform the life of a family in Ethiopia — hard work for sure, but no harder than what these people are already used to.

A delegation of 14 US-based CRS staff members and Church partners are currently visiting projects in Ethiopia. Cullen Larson, CRS’ advocacy officer for the southeast region, shares a story from the field.

On a humble hilltop in Africa, I was reminded that how we eat can change the world.

The women of Kufansik welcome our delegation with joyful singing. Photo by Steve Pehanich for CRS

In the remote village of Kufansik in hungry eastern Ethiopia, most people may not know Jesus in the same terms that Catholic Christians use. But these people may really understand Jesus better—how he showed us that changing the way we share a meal can radically change how we live together.

Americans like me can sometimes approach travel to developing countries with apprehension, concerns about staying healthy, eat this, don’t eat that, etc. There is a place for such concerns. But when the CRS Land Cruisers climbed the rocky hill at Kufansik, we were immediately taken by the sight and sound of village men dancing and singing, holding aloft two large plastic water bottles.

The water in one was brown and topped by something green and gross. The other bottle’s water was clean and clear. Suddenly, down the path came a procession of village women, colorfully clad, clapping their own song of welcome and bearing gifts.

The entrance now complete, a word was proclaimed from a water storage tank, a hilltop ambo. And the word was that CRS and our partners had helped this isolated village to develop a safe water supply—a borehole, pumping and distribution system, irrigation and reservoir capacities—a new source of clean water now serving more than 27,000 people in the area.

Ethiopian villagers celebrate the clean water a CRS-supported water project has brought into their lives. Photo by Steve Pehanich for CRS

Next, baskets of food were brought forward and placed on the ground before us visitors with great delight: the traditional injera bread, small fruits and boiled milk.

But I hesitated, held back. Nobody wanted to get sick. Who knew if this food was safe? It seemed risky! Whether from embarrassment or courtesy or some fledging notion of solidarity, others went ahead, and I, too, took, ate and sipped. This bread of thanksgiving was offered, blessed in gratitude, broken and shared. We ate the injera of Ethiopian life together. We shared plastic cups of solidarity—boiled milk with the faint smoky taste of charcoal.

Through some risk and openness, acceptance and inclusiveness, a eucharist happened on that African hilltop. Mindful of the One who calls us to change the way we share our food and drink with one another, I could not help but be reminded again: “The Eucharist commits us to the poor.”

Rev. David H. Garcia serves as Senior Advisor for Clergy Outreach for Catholic Relief Services. He also supports the agency’s Global Fellows program, a grassroots speaking initiative for Catholic priests and seminarians. He recently accompanied a group of Global Fellows to Nicaragua to see CRS programs in Fair Trade and microfinance.

My recent trip to Nicaragua with a Global Fellows group of seven priests, permanent deacons and seminarians along with Ted Miles from HQ put me through a roller coaster of emotions. This was my introduction to learn about CRS first hand for my new position as Senior Advisor for Clergy Outreach, which I began July 1.

Consuelo Alvaro of the FEM Cooperative in Yano Uno, Nicaragua, shows Fr David Garcia an organic coffee plant. Photo by CRS staff

It is hard to not be depressed by the sea of poverty all around you as you travel Nicaragua. Over 70% of the people in this country, second poorest after Haiti in the hemisphere, live on less than $2 a day. Yet the price of many items is similar to the United States. Gas is higher than in the US, hovering at $5 a gallon, while inflation this year is approaching 22%. People live trying to decide what they can and cannot do about the basics of life for themselves and their families.

Recent history has not been kind to this country. Managua has yet to recover from an earthquake in 1972 that devastated the capital city, destroying the downtown area, including the old cathedral. Although a new cathedral was built away from the city center with funds from donors in the U.S., the downtown has not come back. The Sandinista overthrow of the the Somoza regime in 1979 and the Contra War in the ‘80’s, along with Hurricane Mitch, which soon followed, have taken a harsh toll. Over half a million Nicaraguans have migrated to neighboring Costa Rica looking for work. There they are often treated harshly by the residents. Some have made their way to the United States in a desperate bid to provide for their families.

What we saw gave us hope in a sea of poverty. Hard-working people had received micro loans through Catholic Relief Services, as well as technical, educational and resource assistance. With this help they had organized their farms, small businesses and cooperatives into viable income-producing projects that have helped change their lives.

In one area, Yano Uno near Matagalpa, a group of 12 women told us how they began the FEM (Fundacion Entre Mujeres) cooperative as part of Proyecto ACORDAR with a CRS loan, which helped them rent land to grow coffee and other crops. They also received help from the local diocesan Caritas through a CRS grant to address issues of education, literacy, health, violence and domestic abuse. While we visited they showed us a new wet mill, which is a machine that separates the coffee bean from the fruit pulp. CRS provided it and we were asked to bless it, as they looked forward to a more efficient processing of the coffee crop this year. The women now have a growing business selling Fair Trade organic shade-grown coffee, which is among the highest quality possible. They have paid back the initial loan and their children are now dreaming of going to the university. It was impressive how much they are aware not only of good business practices, but also marketing, prices, organic methods, and preserving the environment. These women never had much chance at formal education and now are changing the future for their entire village.

The women of the FEM Cooperative in Yano Uno, Nicaragua, share their Fair Trade coffee with Fr. David Garcia. Photo by CRS staff

Fe Y Esperanza (Faith and Hope) is the name of a cooperative of men and women in a small rural community near Esteli. They spoke of organizing to produce organic fertilizer. Other individuals in other rural areas spoke of increasing their crop yields through improved farming techniques like drip irrigation and organic practices. All told us they were doing their work to preserve the environment as they raised their crops. CRS had helped with micro loans and technical assistance through Caritas.

We were perhaps most moved by one man, Don Juan Alberto, who was helping build a home for his family of five children, including two who were disabled and one he had adopted. The materials were donated by the local Caritas, with CRS help.

Like I said, it was a roller coaster of emotions all week. I saw and experienced personally that the work of CRS changes lives. I heard from the people their extreme gratitude for our help. I felt the solidarity of our common brotherhood and sisterhood with them. The group of Global Fellows became more committed to our preaching ministry.

There was tremendous poverty and wonderful examples of hope. I chose to believe in the hope and the people who shared it with me.

On the recent visit of the Frontiers of Justice delegation to Ghana, they stopped by the Shekinah Clinic in Tamale, a long time CRS partner agency. Here is a reflection by Melissa Livermore, a Math teacher from Holy Family Catholic High School in Victoria, MN:

shekinah clinic

The Shekinah Clinic fully embodies the Catholic Social Teaching principle of Respect for Life/Human Dignity. Supoorted by Catholic Relief Services for several years now, here care comes in the form of love first with medical care secondary. The 35 volunteers who work in the clinic and surrounding communities validate the concerns of their patients. Everyone who works for the clinic including its founder Dr. David Abdulai, other licensed doctors and nurses, caregivers to those in the hospice homes and the surgical nurse who learned through practical experience, not formal training, receive compensation in the form of small amounts of food and the sharing of donations such as used clothing. All of these people are volunteers and theirs is a mission of love.

Surrounding the clinic are huts built and maintained by villages for patients to stay in when they are far from home. Unfortunately some of the modest huts stand in disrepair from neglect by their contributing communities. The clinic has a laboratory but can’t find a technician willing to volunteer his or her time to run it. With 165 patients living at the clinic and the 60 people it sees on a daily basis, the clinic is a very busy place.

This clinic provides its services free of charge, a radical concept here in Ghana. Dr. Abdulai became a bit of an outcast when he opened the clinic in 1991. Many shared the common thought, “There must be something wrong with a man who provides free services.” This clinic, his clinic, was built out of love. Patients receive care in the form of doctor consultations which always results in an affirmation of the person and in the very least some vitamins, surgical operations, hospice for HIV/AIDS patients with free medical care, meals on wheels for about 80 elderly and mentally handicapped patients, support for abandoned lepers residing at the clinic and weekly care to the prisons which includes free daily meals to the ten most malnourished prisoners. The food support for those living at the clinic is provided by CRS.

The mutual respect between the clients and the volunteers was quite evident. As we made our way around the clinic, Mr. Shaibu Muniru, a very thorough clinic staff, introduced his patients in hospice care and those suffering from leprosy living in small rooms by name. This clinic is a living testimony to the power of love!

An afterthought. Solidarity is all about listening. It is saying, “I am here for you.” It is not strategizing, forming opinions or telling the other how to solve her or his problems. Where is the dignity in that? Shouldn’t the answers come from the experts, the ones affected most? It is asking, “What can I do to help you?” And genuinely mean it. Solidarity is saying, “I am here for you.”

On the final day of the Frontiers of Justice visit, this entry was written by Gary Meyerl during a flight leaving Ghana for the United States

FOJ 2008 delegation pose with Thomas, Jonathan, Williams and Baba at the grounds of the Jesuit Retreat Center in Cape Coast, Ghana.

As we leave Ghana and begin to make our long journey back home – a journey marred with anticipation and anxiety, excitement and trepidation, sorrow and joy – I cannot help but recognize that our Frontiers of Justice delegation is not the same group of people who arrived in Baltimore on June 25, 2008. Like the soil used by countless farmers in Burkina Faso and Ghana, our hearts, minds and lives have been turned and tilled unearthing in each of us a new way of seeing the world and transforming the way that we hear, see and experience the Gospel message lived out in the ordinary and extraordinary. Like Peter, James and John (Luke 9: 26 - 38), we have had a transformative mountaintop experience and are now faced with the prospect of beginning our descent down the mountain and returning home to our families, friends and communities.

Seeing the world through the eyes of our brothers and sisters in Burkina Faso and Ghana, we are called to share our renewed vision with those who have the eyes to see. Listening to the world with a heartened sense of compassion and understanding, we are called to share what we have experienced with those who have the ears to hear. Through our Frontiers of Justice journey in Burkina Faso and Ghana, we have encountered:

• A world in which the stranger is always welcome and two worlds can become one.
• A world in which the visitor is cherished, highly anticipated and the visit is rarely forgotten.
• A world in which the words "You are Welcome" are genuinely offered as a greeting and a rich symbol of hospitality.
• A world which invests in the human person as an integral and authentic part of human development.
• A world in which natural resources are cultivated and shared in promotion of the common good.
• A world in which nothing – and I mean nothing – goes to waste.
• A world in which the Catholic Church works in partnership with CRS to bring hope to people without hope and food to people without food.
• A world where school administrators like Fr. Francis and Mrs. Gamma have learned to do more with less, accomplishing much with limited resources.
• A world in which we are called to share our poverty and our wealth with one another.
• A world formed by the loving hands and heart of our Creator, to be cared for, cultivated and shared with all members of our one human family.
• A Eucharistic world where, by sharing our brokenness, we can cross the borders that separate us and live in solidarity as brothers and sisters in Christ.

Tanya Davis, a high school teacher from Sacramento, wrote this reflection after spending more than two weeks visiting Ghana and Burkina Faso through CRS and NCEA’s Frontiers of Justice program.

"You are welcome!" What does this mean? In American culture we usually shorten the phrase to "You’re welcome." The vast majority of time when I reply "You’re welcome," I say it because that is just what you say as a response to someone after a thank you; I don’t give it much thought I just say it.

However, I think I can speak for all of us in the Frontiers of Justice 2008 delegation when I say that ,"You are welcome!" took on a whole new meaning while in Ghana. Whenever we encountered new people their very first greeting was always "You are welcome!" with the warmest smiles. At first that seemed out of context and a bit strange, yet we quickly grew accustomed to it and we truly knew that, yes we were welcome!

We were indeed welcome in Ghana. Sometimes, we witnessed the "You are welcome!" visually. We were constantly greeted by the children alongside the road or working in the fields with a huge grin and an exuberant hand waving hello. We were welcomed with a round of applause at mass. We were welcomed in schools and homes. We were welcomed in the most remote villages.

We were welcomed by the CRS staff especially Thomas Awiapo who coordinated our Ghana visit and the excellent CRS drivers Baba, Williams and Jonathan who did not fail to greet us "You are welcome!" each morning as we set off on another day of travel.

At the sites we visited (schools, orphanages, HIV centers, diocesan offices) we were greeted with a personal handshake. This handshake was full of life, love and warmth. The phrase "You are welcome!" was repeated time after time, from person to person. Yes, we were strangers in a new land but we instantly felt we were part of one human family.

Finally, we were welcomed by the people CRS serves—the most vulnerable and under served in society. Even from those that have little, they welcomed us as if we were long lost family. At the end of our visit we were given guinea fowl eggs, peanuts and even live chickens. Yes, we were welcomed by the most inspiring, hardworking, hope-filled people we’ve ever met even if they struggle to live day by day.

Now the phrase "You are welcome!" is no longer foreign or unfamiliar. It is one that is enduring, real and an invitation to take part in a family that extends past our own families, nations, ethnicities and religions. "You are welcome!" truly embodies the CRS mission of global solidarity.

On the ninth day of the Frontiers of Justice visit, the group visited a large diocese in the northern region of Ghana. This entry was written by Sinead Naughton.

Don’t be fooled by the red, dusty road leading into the diocese of Damongo, they are paving roads of a very different kind there, roads of hope and solidarity! Damongo is a large diocese in the northern region of Ghana. It is a poor area, often affected by long droughts or the ravages of flooding, but it is making impressive strides in two important areas, girls’ education and peace building and conflict resolution.

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On the eighth day of the Frontiers of Justice visit, a member of the group reflects on their experiences. This entry was written by Jodi Dean.

Sometimes, after hearing the struggles of people facing extreme poverty, you begin losing sight of hope. Your eyes become fixed on the dehumanizing images and your mind can only focus on the stories of grief and hardship. After one week of traveling where we visited a malnutrition center, microfinance projects, HIV/AIDS education and clinic, and a few centers that have taken in abandoned or shunned women and children, I have found small miracles of hope. These miracles of hope are seen in the local CRS staff members and their partnerships with other community and church leaders who have empowered people, especially women, and as a result they are able to live better. Whether it has been a woman telling me she now can feed her children and send them to schools, or another woman who has been ostracized because the accusation of witchcraft now finds refugee in a center where she meets 400 other woman with the same story, or woman in a rural area having access to food and ARV drugs, all of these woman have been miracles of hope. What I have learned from these women is if we choose to live, then we must choose to hope. It takes risk and a leap of faith to hope. To hope in our God and to hope in each other. How does one pay gratitude for this lesson?

Before and throughout this whole trip, I have been challenged by the question of how we live in solidarity with one another. Yesterday, the 10 of us had mass outside on a hill overlooking beautiful trees and in the distance we heard the drums of a celebration in the village. Fr. Roger spoke about how there are about 40 wells because of a partnership with parishes in Michigan. These communities have safe and clean drinking water, because of help from others, perhaps another miracle of hope. As we shared together the Eucharistic prayer, it was then that I forgot where I came from. I forgot I was white. I forgot I was a woman. I forgot I was American. I forgot I was a teacher.

All I knew was that I was a child of God. It was a moment that moved me deeply. A moment that made me realize it is our dignity as children of God that unifies us even when the world around us divides us. While the reality of the world creates gaps, my love and concern for our human family grows closer. This is one reason why I was lead to be here. To learn, to question, and to empower our youth to work towards justice. How does one live solidarity? And is it possible? I do not know the answer. As the poet Rilke says, “Live the questions. And one distant day you will live into your answer.

Sinead Naughton, a member of our delegation and a CRS fair trade ambassador learns how to weave a basket.

On the seventh day of the Frontiers of Justice visit, the group visited Trade Aid, a fair trade association of basket weavers in Ghana. After spending three wonderful days in Navrongo meeting Catholic education officials and visiting high schools including the St. John’s Integrated Technical High School, one of three secondary schools for the deaf in Ghana where the deaf students gave a sign name to each member of our delegations we moved on to Bolgatanga where we visited Trade Aid, a fair trade association of basket weavers that works in partnership with A Greater Gift.

Here is Sinead Naughton’s reflection on the visit with the basket weavers of trade aid.

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