HAWASSA, Ethiopia (AFNS) –
(Editor's Note: This story is part of "Through Airmen's Eyes." These stories and commentaries focus on a single Airman, highlighting their Air Force story.
During a recent trip to Ethiopia, Senior Airman Jarad A. Denton experienced rural areas outside the country's capital as he travelled to Negele Borena by car. Negele Borena is the site of a bridge in Ethiopia, built by Combined Joint Task Force - Horn of Africa.
The long car ride to Negele Borena afforded Denton the opportunity to see a people very different from the stereotypical images most Americans have of Ethiopians. He described the journey through the country as a discovery of the soul of its people. This is the second part of a five-part series: 144 hours in Ethiopia.)
As the dissonant sound of tires rolling over the cobblestone road reminded me of the precise placement of each stone to form the street, the SUVs left the city of Hawassa, Ethiopia, bound for the Negele Borena Bridge, Dec. 5.
The dream to build a bridge for pedestrians and livestock began in 2009 when a civil affairs team from Combined Joint Task Force - Horn of Africa met with the mayor of Negele Borena as well as delegates from the local community.
Before its creation, the residents of Negele Borena were forced to cross a dangerous and sometimes deadly river. I imagined the people who unsuccessfully tried to cross it, swept away forever.
"The river is incredibly dangerous when it floods," said Addisu Wedhao, an Ethiopian and attaché to the U.S. Embassy in Ethiopia. "So many people have lost their lives after being swept away by the current."
More than 17,000 citizens in the Negele Borena region and their livestock put their lives at risk when they attempt to cross the river during its flood stage to receive health care and education. The bridge allows for safe passage, Wedhao said, as well as contributes to the ongoing road repair project.
"It has been difficult to make significant progress on paving the road," he said. "The rain washes away much of the work completed and we have to start again."
Almost on cue, the SUV Wedhao was driving lurched and began to shake. The road outside became rocky gravel with potholes, cracks and crevices, which Wedhao had to navigate around or else risk becoming stuck.
"We won't give up," he said, avoiding a large pothole. "We are committed to improving travel between our cities and villages."
A small bazaar appeared on the horizon. People packed the streets, buying, selling and trading goods. I saw a young boy shopping at a line of woven straw hats that stretched at least a hundred feet. Wedhao told me this was one of the many small, nameless towns that grew as a result of the increased travel along the road.
"People between here and Negele (Borena) travel to markets like this to try and sell the crops they harvest," Wedhao said. "The state of the road makes travel difficult sometimes."
The delays and safety hazards along the road to Negele Borena often lead to fresh produce arriving to market past its prime. Because of this, the local population coordinated with other various nations to develop a safe and expedient means of travel in this part of the country. Additionally, the Negele Borena residents raised the funds necessary for the upkeep of the bridge and agreed to maintain the structure after its completion.
After the SUV rolled past the bazaar, we traveled for several hours before the drivers stopped to give the passengers a brief respite.
I stepped out of the vehicle and stretched, realizing for the first time how cramped I'd been in the SUV. We stopped along the incline of a mountain, which allowed me to look out over the countryside below.
Few moments in my life could be described as "breathtaking," but the sight of vast expanses of farmland and neighboring lush, natural vegetation was enough to give me pause. The sunlight peered through the clouds, calling attention to the raises and depressions of the land below.
Tearing myself away from this picture of natural splendor, I returned to the SUV feeling more refreshed than any nap could have allowed me. Wedhao started the car and continued toward our destination.
My thoughts returned to Negele Borena. I wondered what our reception would be like. The people were committed to taking charge of the bridge after the dedication ceremony; however, would they be happy to see the people responsible for its construction leave? What kind of relationship had the U.S. built with the people of Negele Borena? These questions lingered in my mind as the SUV rolled into the town.
It was busier than I expected. People hurried to and from buildings lining the road. As the vehicles rolled by, residents emerged from their homes and businesses and waved. I smiled and waved back, feeling more at ease and incredibly welcome.
We turned off the main road and traveled past the local market. Children ran up to the SUV, waving and shouting "you" in English. Wedhao told me it was often the only word they knew, so the children equated it to shouting "hey." I smiled and turned my attention to the road ahead. As people cleared out of the path of the SUV, I saw the bridge in the distance. Sunlight glinted off the steel frame as it spanned a crevice leading to the river below.
Wedhao said the Negele Borena people are ready to take ownership of the project, after its dedication, Dec. 6.
"It's hard to believe we're done," said U.S. Navy Petty Officer 3rd Class Alex Polivy, a Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 5 equipment operator. "The people of the town treated us like a part of the community."
Polivy said living in the town and interacting with its people made it easy to see the reason Negele Borena needed a bridge.
"The river probably goes over 10 feet during the rainy season," Polivy said. "I've seen people fall in and get washed away by the current. Luckily, no one has died since we've been here."
Even though there were no casualties during the construction of the bridge, the river has claimed countless lives in the past, when the only way to cross the river was to ford through it.
Polivy confirmed he heard from locals that the river, on average, would kill three people every year. He noticed the way the locals, especially the older ones, reacted to it in conversation. Specifically, a man known only as Mr. Solomon, who provided the service members a place to live in his hotel while they built the bridge, has lived in Negele Borena for more two decades and witnessed many friends and neighbors killed by the river.
The bridge offered residents like Mr. Solomon hope for the future, Wedhao said.
"This river will not take anyone else," Wedhao said, as he stared at the completed bridge, which towered over the now-dormant water below. "I knew two brothers from one family taken by this river. With this bridge here, it won't happen again."