Sunday

Bereket again slept better than his parents last night. The boys were so tired last night that we had antiphonal snoring from each end of the room. We spent most of the day at the guest house, playing and getting to know each other better. Darcie and I are suckers for him walking up and throwing his arms in the air. He gets carried and held a lot! From the literature on toddler adoption, we were prepared for him to not really enjoy or tolerate being held. It has been a sweet surprise that he wants to be held close.  

Our most questionable purchase at the market yesterday was a brass horn that Mark just felt he needed. It’s a little loud for my taste. Typically it is used for Ethiopian weddings and funerals, but Mark decided to play it from our balcony. We discovered that it is also useful in calling cows. A big black and white bull trotted up the road, looked at Mark as he blew on the horn, and bellowed in response. Two cows quickly followed. We asked Mark to stop playing since the cows clearly weren’t supposed to be there. The cows then trotted off in the opposite direction from whence they came. A minute or two later the owner went running by. I thought he might be annoyed at us, but he smiled and gave us the “thumbs up” sign. I hope the horn has the same effect in Puckett.

Our only real plan for the day was for Tegist to pick us up at three for church and then eat at a “cultural restaurant.” It ended up being 4:30 before she made it the guest house (flat tire). My fears that church would be over by the time we got there were unfounded. It had been going since 3:00, and we still made it for the last hour and a half. I was picturing slipping into the back for the preaching time. Instead we were led onto the platform in the midst of a healing service with a guest evangelist from Nigeria. I can’t imagine a more different worship time than FBC Amarillo. It was a slain-in-the-spirit, demon-rebuking, prophesying hurricane. Those who needed extra treatment were taken to an area just feet behind our chairs, separated by a curtain. I’m not sure what was going on back there, but it was loud, shook the curtain, and the demons were getting the worst of it. Mark’s eyes were as big as saucers, but he handled it so well. His question to Tegist after the service was, “Is your church always that loud?” I was holding Bereket during the service with one ear against me and my hand cupped over the other, and shockingly, he fell asleep! If he could sleep through that, Howie’s sermons will be a piece of cake. The service ended with a praise song with the worship leader dancing back and forth across the stage. Darcie leaned over and asked Mark if he thought Dan Baker could do that dance. He replied, “Probably not, but Jonathan could.”

The cultural restaurant was a great time. Under normal circumstances we would have considered it loud, but not after worship! They had music and dancing from each part of the country, and we had very traditional, foreign-looking, but delicious Ethiopian food. We were so proud of Mark. He dug right in! Bereket enjoyed it as well. At one point he had a huge piece of injera--a moist flatbread like a thick tortilla or pancake. He was waving it to the beat of the music like it was a tambourine.

We have the embassy appointment tomorrow to make things official from the US side.