“This group must have started late,” Elias said. “Usually the wood is carried much earlier in the day. They need it for cooking, and to boil water for tea and baths.” Elias stared after them too, then sighed. “Women’s lives can be harsh here. At times it feels like they literally and figuratively carry us all on their backs. Not that there isn’t progress—the economy is growing, and so many Ethiopians are coming back from overseas and starting businesses here—but there is still so much to do.”

I nodded. “It can feel overwhelming. In the States too, so many things are totally broken. I’ve been thinking a lot about it in the last couple of months. Like, why am I here, and not there? Why do I get to come here or any other country and come up with solutions to problems I sometimes don’t even understand? Meanwhile while my own country’s systemic oppression is literally destroying lives and communities.”

I blushed, embarrassed by my outburst. “I don’t think I’m making sense.”

He turned his head, considering my words. “I think you’re right. In the end, you need to do the work you’re passionate about. I don’t agree with this idea that in order to do meaningful work, or to be successful, you have to be miserable, sacrifice everything. That to figure out ways to do good, I have to martyr myself. Purpose is noble, but it can’t fill you up.”

It felt wrong to have this conversation without touching. I wanted to put my head on his chest, breathe him in while he spoke the words I needed so badly to hear.

“You have to do the work that feeds you, find the joy in it.”

I shuddered, feeling the truth of what he’d said in my bones. Before I could stop myself, I looked up at him and whispered, “I’m right here. You’ve found Joy.”

He brushed my shoulder and looked at me with an intensity that shook me, then quietly said, “You are, and I did.”

“You’re like some kind of mystic. How do you have so much more wisdom than me and we’re only a few years apart?”

He shook his head and bumped my shoulder again. “You’re a lot wiser than you think.”

We slowly made our way up the mountain until we reached the highest viewpoint and sat down to have our lunch. There were other families there and some young people, both Ethiopian and foreigners, were scattered around. We chatted with some of them and helped with photos when selfies would not do the view justice.

Once we sat down, Elias and I talked about how we were at the end of Ethiopian summer. Soon the rains would come, making everything muddy and wet for months.