According to the Ethiopian national epic, the Kebra Nagast (or "Glory of Kings"), Ethiopia was founded in 1000 B.C. At that time, the Queen of Sheba journeyed from Abyssinia, as Ethiopia was then known, to Jerusalem to meet King Solomon. She returned with a son, Menilek I. Menilek founded a dynasty that ruled Ethiopia until 1974 A.D.
"I am proud of my ancient heritage," says Samson Tsegazeab, who works as a parking attendant at the garage underneath Larry's Market in Uptown. But Ethiopia has been torn by conflict for much of his life. (Tsegazeab is pronounced Tsay-gah-zob.)
In 1974, when Tsegazeab was 2 years old, Haile Selassie, the 237th and last Solomonic king, was assassinated by a military junta called the Derg. "The Derg was very, very, very rude," says Tsegazeab earnestly. "They took the country to hell."
The Derg established a socialist state wracked by bloody coups and uprisings. Conditions were worsened by widespread drought, famine and massive refugee problems. Finally the Derg regime was toppled by rebel forces in 1991.
Then Eritrea, which had been a part of Ethiopia, gained its independence in 1993 after a long struggle. With the loss of its Red Sea coastline, Ethiopia was now landlocked. What started as a border dispute with Eritrea erupted into war in 1998. Although the war lasted only two years, many perished on both sides (some estimates are as high as 100,000).
Tsegazeab quietly recalls the day Eritrean warplanes bombarded a school, killing a dozen children. After a pause he says that even with that vivid memory he bears no hard feelings toward the Eritrean people. Three of his co-workers are from Eritrea. They are all his friends.
"We don't have any problems getting along because of this war," says Tsegazeab. "It's politics between leaders, not real people. You can't differentiate between us. We are the same people, we eat the same food, we speak the same language."
Besides English and the bit of French he remembers from high school, Tsegazeab speaks both Am-haric and Tigrinya, two of six major Ethiopian languages. He belongs to the Tigre ethnic group, which originated in the northern province of Tigray. The province is considered the "open-air museum" of Ethiopia because of the many historical sites located there, including the ancient city of Axum and the first Christian church built in Ethiopia.
As does Samson Tsegazeab, many Ethiopians have biblical first names "because of our long Christian heritage," he explains. And like many Ethiopians, Tsegazeab is Orthodox Christian. His last name means "Grace of the Lord."
His father was an army officer who had been involved in the conflict with Eritrea, even wounded, but was retired by the time war broke out. Throughout his military career, the family traveled all over Ethiopia. At the time of Samson's birth, in 1972, his father was stationed in Diré Dawa, a city in eastern Ethiopia. Samson is the sixth of 10 children.
He attended the university in the capital, Addis Ababa (which means "new flower"), and graduated in 1999 with a bachelor's degree in economics. "It was one of the best days of my life: I fulfilled my family's expectations to graduate, to be somebody."
His dream was to come to America and continue his education, to earn a master's degree in economics. The U.S. State Department issues 55,000 visas a year to immigrants worldwide through the Diversity Visa Lottery Program. Tsegazeab, one of the lucky ones, came to America in October 2000. His journey was a long, three-legged flight: from Addis Ababa to Italy, Italy to New York, and New York to Seattle.
He came to Seattle because his sponsor lives here - an accountant, born in Ethiopia but now a U.S. citizen, whose brother is married to one of Samson's sisters, who lives in Vancouver, B.C.
He discovered right away that it isn't cheap to go to graduate school in America. In Ethiopia, both tuition and living expenses were free (the latter because he lived with his extended family, as is the custom). He found a job with Sound Parking and was assigned to Larry's parking garage. Though people from his part of the world have backgrounds in a variety of professions, many are visible as parking attendants in Seattle. Tsegazeab isn't sure how that trend started, "but it makes training easy."
He views this job as temporary. "It's OK for now," he says. His dream is only deferred, not shattered. He has bought a car and can afford his other living expenses. He's saving money to attend graduate school someday. Meanwhile, he's taking noncredit classes at South Seattle Community College in English and basic computer operation.
Will he stay in America? "Definitely," he says. "You guys are very nice." He is comfortable here, and has everything he needs - even more. When he is eligible, in two more years, Samson Tsegazeab plans to apply for U.S. citizenship.
But eventually he wants to return to Ethiopia, one of the poorest, least literate countries on Earth. He feels a pressing responsibility to "help the helpless" there: "Many people live in a very terrible fortune there. Some walk 10 kilometers to get water.... My heart is broken.
"If God provides me with all the things to help them," he continues, "I want to be part of the solution to that problem."
Tsegazeab says many of his countrymen, who are not as impoverished as others, feel the same way. He also wants to repay those who paid taxes to educate him. He becomes animated when he talks about doing charitable work, telling of a home for "stray children" run by one his older brothers. "I want to be part of his organization."
He knows that many people are in need here in America, but he feels his calling is from his country of birth, and will answer it when he has better skills. He says that it will not be a problem to return to Ethiopia as a U.S. citizen. "I know lots of Ethiopians who have done that."
So far, since coming here, he has visited home only once. Sadly, it was to attend his father's funeral. His mother and five siblings remain in Ethiopia. The rest of the family has ranged far: a sister in Vancouver, a sister and brother in London; and in October a younger brother came over to live with Samson here.
In his leisure time, Samson Tsegazeab loves to read. He peruses both daily newspapers faithfully and especially likes the Northwest Life section in the Sunday paper. He also reads the business section, "fictionals" (novels) and the histories of countries other than his own.
There are many kinds of Ethiopian music, and he enjoys them all. As for American music, "country music is my favorite," he says without hesitation. His eyes light up as he names Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers and others.
At the time I met with Samson, the holidays were approaching and Tsegazeab was remembering Christmas in his homeland. No gifts are exchanged. The holiday is not commercial at all; it is purely a religious celebration of the birth of Jesus. The Tsegazeab family would attend an all-night church service on Christmas Eve, during which not only the congregation but the priest would sing. Then, at sunrise, everyone would go home and eat, sharing food served on one large plate.
Teru Lundsten is a freelance writer living in Queen Anne. This profile is another in a series of articles she has been writing about immigrants from diverse cultures enhancing the community.
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