When I arrived in Ethiopia I was informed that my plane to Tel Aviv had been delayed. Since it was scheduled to leave at 1:30 AM to begin with, that meant staying at the Queen Sheba hotel. I was directed through a maze of bureaucracy in order to get a temporary visa to enter Ethiopia. In line I saw an old man arguing with the lady giving instructions. I could see that he spoke little English and was confused. It was a thrill for me to interpret for him. It sometimes amazes me that I really can speak Hebrew, even if not perfect.

He was very grateful and we quickly developed a friendship. He was eighty-three and originally from Egypt. I filled out his visa application and when he told me that he was born in 1926 I must of made some sort expression of amazement (at how old he was) and he burst out in mock offense. He was a real comedian, embracing the true nature of an Israeli, which demands that in all situations, that you find something funny. And we did, laughing out load over and over again as our African onlookers looked on in amazement at the two of us.

Next we had to wait in a ridiculously long line to get our passports stamped and enter the country. I enjoyed the company of Mohamed, who is 30, works for the African Union and is getting ready to get married. He asked me about marriage and I told him that he needed to learn to be a servant. He disagreed. Despite his handsome appearance and western clothing, he felt that men were made stronger physically so they could rule. I rebuffed him sharing that Jesus said that he who wants to be great in the kingdom must become the servant of all. I told him that this is problem with so many African leaders. They lead because they love power, not because they love the people. They will not let go of power, which exposes the fact that they are not in fact public servants. We exchanged emails and I hope to not only convince him concerning the way a man should treat his wife, but to forsake Mohamed and embrace Yeshua. Please pray for him.

I am sure the Queen of Sheba from Solomon’s day was far more enamoring than the hotel bearing her name. I was told that a meal was on the house, so I ordered the filet. The waiter informed me that they were out. Also my next choice was not available (what’s the point of a menu?). Then he simply pointed to the four items that were available.

Before I went to sleep the man at the front desk assured me that the bus would not pick us up at 5:30 am as were told. “It will be more like 6:30 am.” Why should I not believe him? My phone rang at 5:45 am, “Sir, your bus is here and ready to leave!”

Mordechai, my eighty-three year old friend was already on the bus. Once again I helped him fill out his form—this time to leave the country. After we got into the terminal he told me he was going for a smoke. The night before I chided him when he offered me a cigarette that it was not healthy, only to realize how stupid it was telling a man who has already lived a good decade past the average age that something wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t lost him, as he said, “I am eighty-three—I am going to stop now?” We laughed.

I was gone for a few days, but it seemed like an eternity. It was as if I left one world, entered another and then returned. It seems so strange that I woke up in Ethiopia and in the late afternoon I could be riding my mountain bike through the orchards of Ra’anana.

In closing, it was an amazing trip. Wonderful people, a wonderful spirit amongst, joy inexpressible!