By Karl Moats '04

When most new students arrive, they don't know where to find the dining hail. Melaku Teka, a junior and Deerfield's first student from Ethiopia, had a different issue: he had never used a computer.

While talking to Teka on the fourth day of classes, Dean of Academics Steven Murray realized that the lanky 16-year-old was too shy to ask for help navigating Deerfield's technology.

Mr. Murray brought Melaku into the room of Tom Kidd and Peter Bums, both seniors from Greenwich, Conn., for a high-tech briefing. Teka, who comes from a village with sporadic electricity and no paved roads, looked in wonder at the dorm room. MP3 files blared from the surround-sound stereo. A golf bag stood in the corner. Tostitos bags and packets of Easy-Mac microwaveable macaroni and cheese overflowed the shelves.

Teka asked if the Internet could display anything about Harry Potter. He looked on in awe as the screen filled with photos and articles, "In Ethiopia," he said. "We listen to radio on battery."

Teka grew up in a village 80 miles south of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital. His house has a thatched roof and wooden walls. In the village, Butajira, mountain goats rove everywhere. The roads are dirt rivets in the ground. They are used by traders who move from village to village bartering goods.

Electricity is a new luxury in Butajira. During the summer there are blackouts regularly as the Awash River ebbs and is too low to generate electricity.

Teka lived with his parents and a younger brother. From kindergarten until last spring, when he finished the tenth grade he attended Project Mercy, a public school paid for by an American relief group. The school provided breakfast and lunch to the 630 students. Classes were held in plain concrete buildings. The school didn't have a single computer.

Teka stood out immediately, working tirelessly and showing a flair for drama and mathematics. Project Mercy teachers described him as a natural leader.

What is in a name? For Melaku it was everything.

Last spring Dr. Robin M. Worth, a recent Harvard University graduate, volunteered to teach at the Project Mercy school for a semester. She came to like Teka and the two grew close.

After her volunteer service ended, Dr. Worth sent Teka a letter recommending that he study in the United States. She enclosed a list of several New England boarding schools. The list meant nothing because Teka had never even heard of most of the states, let alone the towns or the schools. Teka did the linguistic equivalent of throwing a dart: He picked Deerfield because he liked the name.

"It sounds very nice, Deerfield Academy. . ." he said mellifluously last week as he sat in his sparsely-furnished dorm room in Doubleday. He paused to let the effect sink in. "It is the name of a great school, the best. I am happy with my decision."

Until flying to Massachusetts this summer, Teka had never been on a plane before. Now that he is here, Teka is learning plenty in and out of the classroom. He has discovered the joys of air conditioning. He has learned how to spiral a football and to wave when greeting someone (instead of bowing, as he did in Ethiopia).

He is still struggling to complete embrace the American lifestyle.

"I saw many areas of famine in Butajira he said. He paused as he looked at a half full pizza box in the Doubleday II common room.

"This is strange. You never see this in Ethiopia."

If Deerfield is having an effect on MelaKu leKa, then Melaku Teka is certainly having an effect on Deerfield.

During his first Internet lesson with Burns and Kidd, it took a few minutes for him to get over the marvel of seeing Harry Potter virtually alive.

"Can you find Ethiopia?" he said.

They could.

"How about Ethiopian runners?"

Words and images of track stars flashed across the screen. A smile grew on Teka's face. Whenever an Ethiopian star athlete appeared, Teka excitedly explained his importance.

After Teka left their room, Bums and Kidd looked at each other in awe, trying to sort out what they had just been through.

"I had never met a person who didn't even have a notion of what the Internet was," Kidd said. "It altered my perspective on the world. I realized both how incredible today's technology actually is and how there is still a large portion of the world that is still in the dark."

Teka wants to return to Ethiopia and go into politics in order to improve living conditions in the country of 66 million, which has been wracked by droughts, famines and corrupt regimes. "Many of the politicians there are very bad. I want to change all that."

Despite his serious ambitions, Teka is still a typical teenager at heart. He enjoys cross-country practices. He entertains the team with his acrobatic forward flips.

Although he is enjoying the new sights, Teka is somewhat homesick for the luscious plants and mountains of his village. He has not been able to communicate with his family since arriving in Boston several weeks ago.

"Deerfield is paradise. It is very nice," his voice softens. "But sometimes before I go to sleep I feel.... sad. I remember my grandmother. She told me that I would become a great leader. I especially miss her very much."

The Ethiopian runner lopes up the mountain well ahead of the rest of the pack. His smile is out of place among the grimaces and heavy breathing of the rest of the boy's cross country team. He reaches the Rock and takes in the colorful panoramic view of the Valley. "I am happy," he says when the other runners catch up. "There is so much air down here."