Solomon – the third teenager

In the dry season
in the dry season

Solomon has been introduced previously as one of the teengers in the post A house full of teenagers. As a double orphan we decided to adopt him. Solomon is a common name there, as Menelik I, who the first king of Ethiopia’s long dynasty ending with Haile Selassie, is claimed to be the the son of the Jewish king Solomon, from an intimate moment with her, when he was visited by the Queen of Sheba.

We were planning to bring the 3 boys with us on a holiday to Australia, and that made us put his adoption plan into actIon. We needed to get a passport and a visa for him and there was no one who could legally sign for his application papers. So we made an approach to the Australian adoption agency. They denied us permission because of our age. We were older than 45. (That age has since been raised to 65.) So we went to the Ethiopian adoption agency who said that we could but it had to be by Australian rules. Which meant we couldn’t.

So I, in desperation, went to the Ethiopian Immigration Authorities and asked if they would give me special permission to sign the application paper for a passport. They said “No. Adopt him, and then you can.” I explained the above and was told to forget them officials and to go to a down country regional court and adopt him.

We did that. We were interviewed. They asked sensible questions, and about an hour later we had adoption papers signed and in our hands. It had cost me the equivalent of about $1.50. By local custom he was my son. Although my wife had been questioned in the meeting she wasn’t mentioned on the adoption papers. He was now ours (well mine at least). If he was ever naughty I was told that your son had …. etc.

When we flew down for this adoption, we were in a small plane. It was his first flight. Looking out the window he asked what the black dots scattered around were. We told him that they were Kraals (local mud huts). He said, “they look like cow shit”. A word he must have learned from his mates at school!

If he was to come to Australia we needed a visa for him. There was no Australian Embassy in Ethiopia but there was a High Commission in Nairobi. I was to bring him to Nairobi for an assessment, a medical check etc and if all was ok to get a visa for Australia. Ethiopians don’t need a visa to get into Kenya.

Before Ethiopia would allow him to leave the country to pick it up in Kenya we had to have a letter from a lawyer verifying that he was in fact an orphan and that we had adopted him legally.

I had previously operated on the Minister of Justice, a lawyer, under local anaesthetic for a large lump on his thumb. He didn’t trust the sterility of the government facilities. I hadn’t charged him. He was prepared to sign such a letter for me but had never written one like that before. If I wrote it he would sign and stamp it. So I did that and took the draft to his office for translation into Amharic, signing and stamping.

I had a call telling me that I could pick it up, but it would cost me US$100. In the 90’s that was a fair bit of money. At any rate my/his letter worked.

In Nairobi he passed his medical and we had an interview with a very nice lady. She was thorough. Eventually she said to me “are you telling me that he is 16?” I replied “No, I’m saying that I want him to be 16.” If over 16 he wouldn’t have been given a visa. She told me that she assessed him as older than that, and that if I had answered “yes” she would have made him have X-rays to accurately age him. (He already had wisdom teeth), but as I had been honest she would give us a visa.

Australia still doesn’t accept him as our son. He was allowed in, because there was then (now removed) a condition of entry if a child had been living with you for more than 4 years  that he could get an australian visa. Solomon met that condition.

We all came for a holiday but soon after returning to Ethiopia I was expelled from the country and we returned with just him to live. Several years after he arrived in Australia he applied for citizenship and it was granted. Whilst not academic he has a strong work ethic. He is an Australian citizen. He and his wife both work in an aged care facility.

On first arriving in Sydney he was walking down the street with one of our sons. He saw an elderly lady walking a chihuahua and audibly exclaimed “Do they have pet rats in Australia?” Eventually our son by birth calmed the lady down by explaining that this was almost Solomon’s first day in Australia and they had no such dogs over there. I think she had planned to hit him over the head with her umbrella. Pet owners can be like that!

A sixth child legitimately ours. We found another later!

A protesting crowd
a quiet protest in the capital. The procession was about a kilometre long.

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Dominic Cartier

Like a son

kids galore

In 1968, when we first went to Ethiopia, we had a lady W/ro (weysero – mrs) Balynish. She was separated from her husband and had four children – 2 girls and 2 boys. We didn’t see much of the girls but the boys were often at our place playing with our boys. Tadessa the younger of the two was almost always at our place. He was confident, cheeky and lovely. He and our oldest son used to ride around on our two horses as bosom pals. We kept in loose contact with him until sadly he died recently. We helped send one of his sons to University. We were friends.

A couple of memorable moments.

Ethiopian food is more spicy than most of ours. I guess maybe this is not so true now as many other nations (eg Indian) foods have become part of Western food. This particular day Tadee (as we called him) was carrying on about how there were no very spicy spices in our ‘ferengie’ foods. “Are you sure about that,” I asked him. “Certain” he replied. So I went to the pantry and gave him half a teaspoon of Tabasco sauce. With great superiority he opened his mouth wide, confidently swallowed all of it; dropped the spoon and ran outside screaming for water. Lesson learned.

He was attending a nearby small church school where they had full day lessons. One Wednesday he came to our place, at lunch time, and was talking to his mother in the kitchen. We could overhear the conversation. He was boasting about how he had bested his teacher that morning. Apparently he had obtained 1 out of 20 for a maths test. The teacher at the end of the lesson asked the students to call out their marks to have them recorded. When asked to give his mark, he replied 11. 1/20 sticks in a teachers mind, so he was called out the front for lying. In spite of knowing that the punishment was a caning, he confidently went to the front and told the teacher that the teacher couldn’t cane him, because his name was Tadessa Cartier! He got away with it.

Calling him into where we were eating he, smiling broadly, verified the story. “What do you think I would do to your very good friend, my son, if he lied like that?” I asked. As the sentence came out his smile quickly disappeared. “You’d give him a hiding?”. “Yes I would. Are you sure your name is ‘Cartier’?”. He clung to our really very tenuous relationship. So I told him that I would give him a hiding but at school in front of his class, as if I gave it in our home no one else would learn a lesson.

After lunch we went to school together. The teacher said the facts were true. So I took off my belt and applied 3 good whacks to the seat of learning. He fled screaming and neither his mother nor we saw him for 3 days. I went off to review the hundred leprosy patients we had on the compound with severe foot ulcers, as I did every Wednesday afternoon. He came back without grudges and carried on as if he was Tadessa Cartier.

I loved that kid and still love the memory of him.

Dominic Cartier

Easter this year.

burnt churchThere was a stage when the local church head office had to deal with 4,000 displaced people. Displaced because nearly 100 churches and many homes had been burnt down by a group of fanatics. The University abuted the church property and our home was one that had previously been built for foreigners working with them. We weren’t directly involved until a friend in Australia sent a sizeable gift which he wanted us to equitably hand out to the needy; with stipulations we did it through the church heavies.

Ministers of every Christian denomination must feel that Easter in their calendars has been dealt a similar blow this year. The people got together and rebuilt their churches and I was asked to be present at the re-opening of several of them. They were rejoicing – because having suffered for their faith they were now in better shape than before. In one instance they even built a school for the children of their persecutors!

rebuilt church

Easter means something to everyone! Travel, holidays, sport, religion.

There are always school and maybe university breaks. There are major sporting events; many go camping; it is a major holiday period.

The breaks have extended this year into areas where no one wanted them to go; people stood down from their jobs; many businesses, leisure spots, sporting events being closed! No travel permitted! And it’s no holiday at all, with the 2 person and 1.5 metre rules in place. There are resultant extreme financial problems for many.

This is all very sad, and affects us all, some very severely. It is not to be belittled, but it’s not the fault of Easter. It’s THAT virus!

Let’s remember, however, that Easter was not originally meant to be primarily a ‘holiday’ but a ‘holy day’. A time free from work, an opportunity to worship. The heart of ‘Easter’ is a religious thing. I think many will miss the services of the Holy (Passion) week – Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Sunday. We’re told that many go to church just at Easter and Christmas. Well this year they’ll miss out on Easter.

When I was young I wondered why they said that Jesus rose on the third day. He died Friday and Sunday is only 2 days later. It all made sense after I went to Africa. If I made the mistake on, for example, a Tuesday of telling a patient to come back in 14 days (there was no word for a fortnight), they always came back on the Monday. If I said come back for a check in 4 days they always (to my counting) came back in 3. You had to get used to it! Today was counted as day 1. Thus Friday, He died day 1, Saturday, in the grave day 2, Sunday – He rose on the third day.

The government can, and probably correctly, has cancelled public gatherings. They cannot cancel history, so our house will meditate and rejoice!

And I remember those in other lands who all year, every year, face Governmental restrictions and persecution, and I am glad that I can at least celebrate without fear in my own home.

Damien Cartier

Further comments on the 3 Teenagers – Tadessa

M family home

(The house complex above was often the set up of a polygamous family. The Husband had the bigger house and each of his wives a smaller one.)

Tadessa was the second of the 3 teenagers who became part of our home -see  A house full of teenagers.    The first, Mesfin, was dealt with in Follow up on Mesfin of the ‘3 Teenagers’

Tadessa was much gentler than Mesfin but just as studious. I remember how they were taught English in High School. There were sentences with a or maybe two spaces, followed by a list of alternate words or phrases to put in the spaces. For instance there may have been a verb in several tenses and they had to choose the right one. In the evenings he would discuss the alternatives with my wife. Unlike me she is good at English. I remember him more than once stating that her answers had been marked wrong. When he had commented to the teacher that he lived with people whose first language was English and that he had checked his answers with them he was told that they obviously didn’t know English very well.

With Mesfin he was sent to school in Addis and went onto tertiary studies. He studied accountancy and administration. When they were leaving our area to go for further schooling in Addis their church friends gave them a party. It was joyous and memorable. Memorable to me in several ways – the music and singing (not the canned variety) were great, and  the retelling of shared experiences was hilarious  but, outstanding in my mind was that the catering was only dry bread and water; and they all appreciated it. My wife and I, invited as their ‘parents’ were spoiled. We had a coke and a fanta!

He worked with the training school attached to the Hamlin Fistula Hospital. Then with Samaritan’s Purse. He was in the Finance Department of the Korean Hospital in Addis Ababa. Now he is CEO of the work in Ethiopia of an American Mission.

This mission has built and runs a school for 1400 children in a poor area about 150 km. They provide 2 meals a day for the students. He still lives in the capital. From there he deals with the American heavies in the USA and the Government heavies in Addis, frequently travelling to the school to oversee its running. At the mission’s request he is planning to start a second school.

Over the years he has worked as a go-between for us dealing skilfully with government departments, whereas we would have bumbled our way through, and often have failed.

Perhaps the supreme example of this was when, after a 2 year battle to adopt our second Ethiopian son, he solved the question by marching into the senior officer in the case and saying “you know every legal requirement has been met. You’re only waiting for a bribe and this family don’t bribe. Say ‘yes’ and the case is finished. Say ‘no’ and we’ll take you to court”. He marched out of the office. Two days later he was called in to collect the signed papers. It is of interest that in the preceding few weeks a number of officials from other departments had been sacked for taking bribes.

He is married with 3 lovely boys. His wife is a nurse.

I’ve lent him money which he is repaying in part by helping educate a number of other children.

Tadessa family

Dominic Cartier