Childhood Hunger

Bill Shore’s Letters

Letter From the Cockpit en Route from Gode to Addis Abbaba

May 2000

Dear Friend,

I've never before flown with a pilot whose pre-flight checklist included conducting a group prayer, but that's what ours did before we took off in a six seat, single-engine Cessna across the vast desert to drought-devastated Gode in southern Ethiopia. Although we represented five nationalities and as many different religions, I don't think there was one of us that didn't say amen. If there was a dangerous part of our week-long assessment of how Share Our Strength could best support the Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) working to avert mass famine in Ethiopia, this was it.

Our pilot, Captain Herman van Heuvelen is the director of flight operations for the Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF), a faith-based organization of 400 pilots in who fly humanitarian missions into places no one else will go. The organization was established by three World War II veterans about 65 years ago. All of their planes are donated, and Captain van Heuvelen supports himself, wife and five children by writing newsletters to friends and family and soliciting their support (sound familiar?).

Because all six seats of the plane were filled, van Heuvelen asked me to take the co-pilot seat and to put on the headphones so we could talk. He came to Ethiopia three weeks ago after spending eight straight years flying relief supplies into, and med-evacs out of, Uganda. "Often we need to use runways that were abandoned 7-8 years ago. That's why we only use these single-engine planes. They need next to no runway. Can get in and out of anywhere. A twin-engine needs a longer runway because it needs to gain much greater speed to compensate for weight and balance. A single engine can land and take off anywhere. The only problem," he says with a shrug "is if you lose the engine."

From an altitude of only 9500 feet the view of the desert was staggering. It hadn't rained for three and one-half years in this region and it was immediately clear why relief officials found it almost impossible to get adequate food, water and medical supplies to the nomadic pastoralists who had lost more than 90 percent of their herds. There are no paved roads, and even by plane, Gode is two and one-half hours away. When it finally did rain, just about two weeks before we arrived, bridges washed away and the dirt roads became impassable. And with the rain, most of the few surviving sheep and cattle, which had been starving, ate and drank too quickly, bloated, and died.

Once on the ground in Gode, we were met by the Oxfam Great Britain's project manager. In just four days, they had built an impressive water treatment plant with nine pre-fab water tanks. The previous water treatment facility pumped dirty water from the river into a concrete holding tank. The "treatment" was to let the solids settle to the bottom of the tank and then to pump it directly to the village.

We also visited Gode's hospital and Save The Children's therapeutic feeding center. These are the kids we see on the news. Trust me when I say that no matter how graphic the footage, it's easier on a television screen. Hospitals in Ethiopia don't mean what it does back home. And so Chuck Scofield and I found ourselves standing under a large tent with hundreds of children laying on the ground next to their mothers, asking where the hospital was, only to be told that we were in it. These kids are not only vulnerable to drought, but also to the view that the government's pursuit of a senseless war on the northern border is a rationale for withholding humanitarian relief. Step inside the hospital tent for a few minutes and you will not hold that view for long.

Before I got to Africa, I didn't really understand why the drought's impact was so devastating. And indeed once we got to Addis Ababa it was hard to imagine either famine in the south or the war with Eritrea in the north. There were no signs of either in the capital, which although poor, is thriving, with people cramming the Mercato, Africa's largest marketplace, dining out at restaurants, packing minivans on their way to school or work. But in the southern region of the country, the pastoralists live dramatically different lives. They don't buy their food at the store or market, they don't farm and raise a diverse range of crops, and they certainly don't have charitable organizations to serve them. Instead they do what their nomadic ancestors have done for thousands of years. They relentlessly herd goats, sheep, cattle and oxen in search of water, live off milk and meat, and criss-cross a continent again and again for the sole purpose of survival. This area of Ethiopia is really a no-mans land that the government acknowledges but does not adequately serve.

Gode captured the media's attention, and we felt we had to see it. But three days before our flight we made the 18-hour roundtrip in a LandRover to Yabelo. This city has been completely overlooked in the press, yet suffered similar drought conditions. One big difference was the longer-range developmental work that had been launched through Share Our Strength partners Oxfam and Action For Development. In Yabelo, boreholes had been dug and water pumped to wells where the families could get to it. Ponds had been rehabilitated. For the first time, camels, which are so much more resistant to drought than oxen, had been introduced to pull plows. As a result, grain could continue to be planted and harvested. The local community worked hand-in-hand with the NGO's.

If you've ever wondered whether a few thousand dollars or even a few hundred dollars, can really make a difference, just come here with me to watch the more than 2000 families lined up at the new water pump to which they owe their livelihoods and their lives.

It's difficult to see an end to drought in Africa. But it's not impossible to see an end to famine. We spent our days with organizations from Spain, Australia, Great Britain, Canada and the U.S. who have rallied to make this the famine that could be averted, and who are bringing long-range development strategies to fruition. Everywhere we found people who, like Captain van Heuvelen, were literally sharing their strength, putting their unique talents and gifts toward that which is most sacred: the lives of fellow human beings.

That's the view from up here in the cockpit. It's been a heck of a flight. When we leave Gode, Captain van Heuvelen explains: "They can't even clear me for take-off at this airport." he points to a rickety wood tower. "No one has been in that tower for years. There's someone inside a building somewhere but since they have no visual all they can do is wish me good luck." Fortunately we can do more than that. I hope I've given you a visual that can yield more than good luck wishes.

As you can imagine, a trip like this is all but overwhelming. There is a tremendous amount to process and I'm sure I'll write you again in a few days. Until then, please think of ways you can help through your family, office or place of worship. The Share Our Strength Ethiopia Relief Fund will channel 100 percent of your donation to our partners doing the most effective work on the ground in Ethiopia. I'm eager to keep in touch. Thanks for your compassion, support, and most of all, your friendship.

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