You know those days when you see really old men wearing hot pink pants and you think, "oh… he's color-blind. That's sad" and then he asks you if you like his pink pants and you realize that he was fully aware of the decision he was making when he woke up that morning? Those days happen a lot here. I like them. They make me happy.
Additionally, you know that saying that every village has their naked guy? I'm finding it to be true. I've been hesitant to bring up naked guy in order to avoid causing anyone (read: parents) undue concern. However, having encountered him on numerous occasions these past two months in the Finote, I've ascertained that he is harmless. Our village naked guy's favorite pastime is hopping on public transportation at one edge of town and riding it to the other edge (maybe a mile? Probably less...). He then walks back, hops another bus, and repeats. What's interesting about this, other than him violating all public decency laws, is that it's obvious that he has no money. He has no pockets. The only thing he carries is a large stick. So these people are just letting him on the buses? That seems odd. But on any given Saturday, you know where naked guy can be found… just don't run into him as he is making his trek back across town. It's awkward.
Speaking of transportation… I think before this time in my life it would have been difficult to identify a form of transport that I did not love. I love to travel. Planes, trains, automobiles, undergrounds, canoes, paddleboats… love them all. I have now identified a means of travel that makes me want to stay at home for the rest of my life: any type of Ethiopian public transportation. It's horrendous. I have to mentally prepare for days before going even an hour away. Five minutes into it I wish I had never left home. Three hours and twenty minutes into a trip that should've taken two hours (30 minutes by car… two hours by ethio bus…), I was actually eyeing my bench mate's rifle and wondering if I would get there any faster if I shot myself in the foot. I envisioned getting whisked away in an ambulance with flashing lights. I've never experienced this form of transportation, but it sounded nice. Then I realized I've never seen an ambulance here so I'd probably have to stay on the bus in additional pain. Then I started wondering why dude had a rifle on the bus and if it had a safety. Then my knee caught on a protruding metal bar and ripped a hole in my pants.
There are few things that can convince me to make the 8 hour 49 minute and 42 second bus ride into Addis Ababa (don't worry. I timed it)… but if Andy Sisk is in town I will go. And he was, so I went. It was incredible. Great people really. They let me tag along to old Orthodox churches on hills that overlook the city, took me shopping, and introduced me to a Mexican restaurant. Mexican food in Ethiopia… who knew? Cheese also brought a map of Birmingham that Sarah Wolf (who I stayed with and is amazing) poured over for quite some time, locating the homes of just about everyone we've ever known. It's difficult to explain the impact of this past week on my life. Cheese is just great and it was just so refreshing to have a bit of the family here. Just to warn you… Cheese has taken up handholding and wearing man-skirts. Ethiopia does that to some people I guess.
On the way home I had one of the most disturbing experiences of my life. We came around the corner and came upon an absolute slaughter of donkeys. It was so strange. No exaggeration- at least 20 dead donkeys and some very large birds scattered all over the road. They had been there a while but showed no indication of what might have killed them. I could go into greater detail, but it was gross. A few of us were in the PC car and when asked the driver suggested that perhaps it was a "seasonal disease." He was not sure though as "this was his first time." Yeah. Ours too. What kind of seasonal disease drops donkeys and birds dead at the exact same time in the middle of the road, I ask you? I blame the bunny doctors. I've never been a fan of them.
We will now commence a series of posts in which I introduce you to people in town that I like. We begin with my landlord and family. Ato (Mr.) Genanow is 41 years of age and is a veterinary assistant. Sometimes he comes home rather bloody. I've learned not to ask. His English is very good, so he can tell you all about the breeched baby cow that he had to remove from an uncomfortable mom cow. The stories don't usually have good endings. He tells me that he respects me and that I am as a daughter to him… thus if I am not home by 8pm, he can be found wandering the streets with a flashlight searching for me. I'm very safe. Asenaf is his wife and she is awesome. She has an incredible sense of humor and is not easily fazed. They have a really good relationship and treat each other like equals which is a big deal in a society where many wives are still treated like servants. Sophonias (Sophie) is nine. He stands on the main road in the evening and acts like he's not waiting for me to come home from work… but he is. We both arm ourselves with rubber bands and race home trying to snap each other. The people we pass like to make an "errrah?" noise in the back of their throats at us. It translates as: "Why is that boy not respecting the ferenge?" or "What is the crazy ferenge doing now?" Rebkah is six and is constantly dirty. You've never seen a dirtier kid. She also likes to walk around without anything but a t-shirt on. She knows how to turn on the tears in order to get her way, which I suppose is a valuable skill if you have an older brother. She cries a lot. We're really good friends because I team up with her against Sophie. The rubber band wars get intense.
Umm… in other news, work is good. I'm getting to go out into the rural areas a bit more. I love it. I think I might just move out. Except for the lack of water, electricity, and food that I know how to cook. We are trying to start doing more testing for HIV out there but have run into some pretty tough obstacles… mainly lack of education and willingness for farmers to get tested for a disease that they know nothing about. You'd think this could be easily resolved but… who knows? I'm discovering that I'm pretty impatient. If you could pray that I would resist the temptation to give into frustration at the slowness of everything here, the lack of structure, and feeling like I'm wasting time, I'd appreciate it.
Much love.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Another day, another holiday
These Ethiopians have more holidays than you can fathom; it's ridiculous. So January 27th's holiday was St. Yeorgis (St. George). The missionaries in Christie's town invited us to celebrate with them out in a rural village where they have horse races. I'm thinking "ohh! A horse race! Bleachers to sit on, railings to keep the horses away from crowds, women with big hats, and ice cream (I don't know if they have ice cream at horse races, but I like to think about ice cream). What fun!" I'm a moron.
So the way St. Yeorgis works is you drive until there is no more road and then you drive a little bit further. When you can't drive anymore you get out and walk thirty minutes through the rural countryside. Keep in mind we're up in the mountains now, so it's beautiful. Eventually the trail dumps you into a huge open field by a church and people are pouring in from all directions. Where they come from, you have no idea. The missionary's friends invited us in for lunch and lets just say that huts in rural Ethiopia are a lot different than living in a small city. No more complaining about living in the boonies for me...dang. So then we head out to the horse races…
It's just absurd. The priests come out again with their umbrellas, horns, clapping, and singing. It was explained that the thing they're carrying is an ark (you know they say the real Ark of the Covenant is in Ethiopia somewhere…). So the ark is set out to watch the races I guess. Then everyone lines up on two sides of the field. All the horses are decked out in their Lion of Judah finery and they assemble at one end. They then come tearing down the field two at a time with their riders screaming as if death is upon them. One rider has a shield and the other rider has two "spears." They call them spears but there is no tip on them… so really they're just two big sticks. Call them what you will, the objective is for one rider to throw the spears and see how many times he can get them to bounce off the shield. You are particularly talented if you can get the spear to bounce off the shield and catch it again. In order for this to happen, the horses have to be dangerously close together. The horses go up and down the field countless times… no one is really keeping score, so no one wins. You just do it until people get bored. Or someone dies.
You can see, the opportunity for things to go wrong is great. For example: the crowd lining the field can inch closer and closer together giving the horses less and less space. Spears can go flying into the crowd. Small children can run out into the field, overwhelmed by the excitement of it all, and have near scrapes with death. Tired horses can decide they've had enough and run into the crowd. Spears can go between the horses' legs and trip them. Someone can drop their whip, hop down to get it, and get run over by the next set of riders. It was one of those "where-the-heck-am-i?-this-is-awesome!" days.
There's no electricity out there, but I noticed that the hut we visited had a light bulb connected to a switch. They showed me how it worked… rigged to a battery. Granted, it only gave off maybe 4 watts of light but for the first time in my life I thought, "That's cool. I could be an electrical engineer someday." I'm also developing an interest in health care, counseling, economics, seminary, agricultural science, and would like to be a history buff someday. Rather than these two years providing a narrowing of direction, I'm starting to realize I could come out of here more confused than ever. So that's nice.
For our educational tidbit this week, we're going to discuss a rather sensitive topic in broad terms: regulation. I've long been of the opinion that regulation stunts effectiveness, efficiency, and creativity but seeing it in action is mind-boggling. When education is regulated and people are forced to study subjects they have no interest in based on test scores not only are they unmotivated, but you're really hindering your economy. They aren't going to be enthusiastic in whatever field they're forced into and won't work to their full capacity. And when public services are regulated, such as cell phone network, it's just not going to work. It's going to be more expensive than necessary, service won't be available during peak hours (which includes working hours, evenings, and weekends… so all day really), and you won't be able to use international text messaging like the rest of the world. Not that this is frustrating or anything. Additionally, apparently a new thing they're doing is banking over cell phones. I don't know enough about how it works, but it seems like an interesting approach to development… however it won't do much good if you don't have a cell network that works. And if your country doesn't allow private banks and doesn't adequately support the banks that they operate… it could complicate things. Just something to think about next time you're governing your own country.
So the highlight of my day has become going to work. I still don't accomplish much, but I'm learning a ton and the people are hilarious. This week I learned that there are three things that a girl must be able to do in order to be a good wife: 1) make injera. 2) make duro (chicken) wat. 3) Make tella- the local equivalent of moonshine. It is the color of dirt and has stuff floating in it. I've only sampled on occasions when it got too awkward to continually refuse and it is worse than you think it could be in your wildest imagination. I told the guys that I've tried to make injera and failed, refuse to pluck a chicken and thus will never be able to make duro wat, and that tella makes me nauseous… so the office joke has become that I'm unsuitable for marriage. Since going to the panel on gender equality, I've become a big advocate - so I asked what a guy has to do to become a good husband. Apparently they only have one requirement: to plow a field with a team of ox. I asked these guys, who all come from bigger cities, if they've ever done that… and they hadn't. I felt vindicated. So that's what I do at work...distract people. Awesome. I've also learned 91 out of 231 characters of the alphabet. When I demonstrated my increasing knowledge today they said, "Oh, you can read like a first grader."
With April coming ever closer and our Peace Corps imposed travel ban lifting, we're all trying to make our sites sound appealing in order to attract visits from other volunteers. People are beginning to advertise hot showers, camels, lakes, hiking, shops that sell ferenge products (cereal!), and the like. I'll be honest, it's been hard to promote the Finote… umm… "When it rains we have really consistent running water? Sometimes the electricity only goes out for a half hour at night instead of 3 hours? The Extreme Hotel has the best shiro wat this side of the Blue Nile Gorge?" But last week I think I found it-the Finote's selling point: monkeys. That's right. We have monkeys. Haile asked if I had been out to the jungle (it's not a jungle, but that's ok) to see the monkeys. I asked him why it had taken a month to decide this was something he should share. It's awesome. And it's maybe a 10-minute walk from my house.
I've also started going to the Protestant church in town. It's taken me awhile mostly because going to a new church by yourself is scary. But it wasn't too bad. They only had me introduce myself and then asked me to preach twice. We eventually agreed that it would be best for me to wait to start my public ministry until I learned a bit more of the language, so that's a relief. It was so great to worship with believers though; my heart needed that. Also, there are women at church and some of them appear to be around my age. That was an exciting discovery.
This is too long. I'm done. Miss you all! Much love!
So the way St. Yeorgis works is you drive until there is no more road and then you drive a little bit further. When you can't drive anymore you get out and walk thirty minutes through the rural countryside. Keep in mind we're up in the mountains now, so it's beautiful. Eventually the trail dumps you into a huge open field by a church and people are pouring in from all directions. Where they come from, you have no idea. The missionary's friends invited us in for lunch and lets just say that huts in rural Ethiopia are a lot different than living in a small city. No more complaining about living in the boonies for me...dang. So then we head out to the horse races…
It's just absurd. The priests come out again with their umbrellas, horns, clapping, and singing. It was explained that the thing they're carrying is an ark (you know they say the real Ark of the Covenant is in Ethiopia somewhere…). So the ark is set out to watch the races I guess. Then everyone lines up on two sides of the field. All the horses are decked out in their Lion of Judah finery and they assemble at one end. They then come tearing down the field two at a time with their riders screaming as if death is upon them. One rider has a shield and the other rider has two "spears." They call them spears but there is no tip on them… so really they're just two big sticks. Call them what you will, the objective is for one rider to throw the spears and see how many times he can get them to bounce off the shield. You are particularly talented if you can get the spear to bounce off the shield and catch it again. In order for this to happen, the horses have to be dangerously close together. The horses go up and down the field countless times… no one is really keeping score, so no one wins. You just do it until people get bored. Or someone dies.
You can see, the opportunity for things to go wrong is great. For example: the crowd lining the field can inch closer and closer together giving the horses less and less space. Spears can go flying into the crowd. Small children can run out into the field, overwhelmed by the excitement of it all, and have near scrapes with death. Tired horses can decide they've had enough and run into the crowd. Spears can go between the horses' legs and trip them. Someone can drop their whip, hop down to get it, and get run over by the next set of riders. It was one of those "where-the-heck-am-i?-this-is-awesome!" days.
There's no electricity out there, but I noticed that the hut we visited had a light bulb connected to a switch. They showed me how it worked… rigged to a battery. Granted, it only gave off maybe 4 watts of light but for the first time in my life I thought, "That's cool. I could be an electrical engineer someday." I'm also developing an interest in health care, counseling, economics, seminary, agricultural science, and would like to be a history buff someday. Rather than these two years providing a narrowing of direction, I'm starting to realize I could come out of here more confused than ever. So that's nice.
For our educational tidbit this week, we're going to discuss a rather sensitive topic in broad terms: regulation. I've long been of the opinion that regulation stunts effectiveness, efficiency, and creativity but seeing it in action is mind-boggling. When education is regulated and people are forced to study subjects they have no interest in based on test scores not only are they unmotivated, but you're really hindering your economy. They aren't going to be enthusiastic in whatever field they're forced into and won't work to their full capacity. And when public services are regulated, such as cell phone network, it's just not going to work. It's going to be more expensive than necessary, service won't be available during peak hours (which includes working hours, evenings, and weekends… so all day really), and you won't be able to use international text messaging like the rest of the world. Not that this is frustrating or anything. Additionally, apparently a new thing they're doing is banking over cell phones. I don't know enough about how it works, but it seems like an interesting approach to development… however it won't do much good if you don't have a cell network that works. And if your country doesn't allow private banks and doesn't adequately support the banks that they operate… it could complicate things. Just something to think about next time you're governing your own country.
So the highlight of my day has become going to work. I still don't accomplish much, but I'm learning a ton and the people are hilarious. This week I learned that there are three things that a girl must be able to do in order to be a good wife: 1) make injera. 2) make duro (chicken) wat. 3) Make tella- the local equivalent of moonshine. It is the color of dirt and has stuff floating in it. I've only sampled on occasions when it got too awkward to continually refuse and it is worse than you think it could be in your wildest imagination. I told the guys that I've tried to make injera and failed, refuse to pluck a chicken and thus will never be able to make duro wat, and that tella makes me nauseous… so the office joke has become that I'm unsuitable for marriage. Since going to the panel on gender equality, I've become a big advocate - so I asked what a guy has to do to become a good husband. Apparently they only have one requirement: to plow a field with a team of ox. I asked these guys, who all come from bigger cities, if they've ever done that… and they hadn't. I felt vindicated. So that's what I do at work...distract people. Awesome. I've also learned 91 out of 231 characters of the alphabet. When I demonstrated my increasing knowledge today they said, "Oh, you can read like a first grader."
With April coming ever closer and our Peace Corps imposed travel ban lifting, we're all trying to make our sites sound appealing in order to attract visits from other volunteers. People are beginning to advertise hot showers, camels, lakes, hiking, shops that sell ferenge products (cereal!), and the like. I'll be honest, it's been hard to promote the Finote… umm… "When it rains we have really consistent running water? Sometimes the electricity only goes out for a half hour at night instead of 3 hours? The Extreme Hotel has the best shiro wat this side of the Blue Nile Gorge?" But last week I think I found it-the Finote's selling point: monkeys. That's right. We have monkeys. Haile asked if I had been out to the jungle (it's not a jungle, but that's ok) to see the monkeys. I asked him why it had taken a month to decide this was something he should share. It's awesome. And it's maybe a 10-minute walk from my house.
I've also started going to the Protestant church in town. It's taken me awhile mostly because going to a new church by yourself is scary. But it wasn't too bad. They only had me introduce myself and then asked me to preach twice. We eventually agreed that it would be best for me to wait to start my public ministry until I learned a bit more of the language, so that's a relief. It was so great to worship with believers though; my heart needed that. Also, there are women at church and some of them appear to be around my age. That was an exciting discovery.
This is too long. I'm done. Miss you all! Much love!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Oprah for President!
My office friend Haile, who is well educated and highly intelligent, gave me a good laugh the other day when he told me that he would vote for Oprah if he were American… then I realized he was serious. He told me he read in a magazine that she was running. I actually almost believed him (how would I know?) until he proceeded to tell me some wild conspiracy stories that had also been presented to him as truth... by another magazine. When I asked where they came from he looked at me like I was dumb and said, "America." I'm not kidding-journalists should be required to take ethics courses. The things they get people to believe are absurd. Incidentally, for you Northerners, Haile's office attire of choice is a Weis Grocers polo.
Life in the Finote carries on! Work is slow, but there is hope that it will become more defined soon. My supervisor and I have an appointment to discuss my short-term work plan this week. Even though we are together everyday from, pues, 8:30am till 5:30pm it is still necessary to schedule an appointment. I did participate in a conference on gender equality, a panel discussion at the high school, and English Friday at the prep school. I'm also supposed to start meeting with girls at the prep school during breaks a few days a week. Teachers are concerned that the girls don't actively participate in classroom discussion and want me to help them gain confidence. The teachers at the schools are typically males between the ages of 23 and 27. By typically, I mean that I've met one female teacher in all of Finote Selam and at least 75 male teachers. If I were an adolescent girl, I wouldn't participate either. I want to tell them that the girls need role models. If they want them to have confidence, give them some girl teachers and an example to follow… not sure how that would be received though.
Christie and I have decided to try and get together every other weekend… that's about as long as I can go until the desire to speak English becomes an actual need. So last weekend it was her turn to come here. The Finote went crazy. Two ferenge (foreign) girls with the same name? Whoa. We set out on a hike to my favorite tree in hopes of enjoying another picnic in the out-of-doors. Nope. In a mere matter of seconds we were surrounded. We decided to time the kids, seeing how long it would take for them to get bored of us just sitting there. Turns out we were timing ourselves. We only lasted 4 minutes and 55 seconds until we couldn't handle answering the same questions repeatedly and had exhausted our Amharic vocabulary. We're weak. Turned out well though- we just kept walking and found a lovely river to eat our gummi bears, bananas, and peanut butter by. Later that day we made the most incredible meal and had our inaugural evening of Bible study and quesadillas. You cannot fathom quesadillas this good. With Spanish rice and canned corn? A meal with color! And quality English conversation!
This weekend I headed to Debra Markos because I discovered that the only ingredient I was lacking for banana pancakes (just like banana bread if you don't look at them) is flour, which they don't have in the Finote. There are two peace corps volunteers placed in Debra Markos and while I'm not saying that other people are living more civilized than I am… other people are living more civilized than I am. My first clue that I had been out in the boonies for too long was when I stared at the flushing apparatus on KB's toilet and said, "so… wait… you go to the bathroom inside? And you pull that and the stuff goes somewhere?" I got a "wow Straw" in response. Oops. But once again, going to a bigger town has made me really thankful for the Finote. I like the smallness and that literally everyone knows my name now… ok, sometimes that still freaks me out a bit…
Sunday was another holiday in Ethiopia- Timkat, or Epiphany. It was fun being in Debra Markos to celebrate. We went with KB's landlord to the Orthodox Church for the festivities. Think what it must have been like when the Israelites surrounded Jericho then add traditional Ethiopian garb and ornately dressed priests carrying massive umbrellas and crosses. This is Timkat. Many Orthodox churches here are circular, so people were running/dancing around the church, blowing horns, beating drums, clapping, and doing that guttural Africa yell that is impossible for non-Africans to imitate. I kept waiting for the walls to fall, but they never did. We headed out when too much attention became directed on getting the ferenge to participate in the cultural dancing. It's just embarrassing. But we did continue celebrating on our own by making chocolate pudding (compliments of the Luetchfords… brilliant people really) topped with mashed up Oreos. What are holidays without desserts?
I'm again noticing a fixation on food in these blogs which is really only interesting if you're the person eating so I'm going to endeavor to diversify and include some educational tidbits as well. This week's topic is goiters. I don't think I knew what a goiter really was until coming to Ethiopia… I certainly had never seen one. Did you know it's caused by lack of iodine? It makes the thyroid swell to massive proportions, results in mental impairment, and can cause birth defects. Approximately 655 million people in the world have goiters. I read some crazy statistic on how many of those people are in Ethiopia… but I can't find it anymore and internet has been out in the Finote. You should look it up. Basically every other person you pass on the street here has a goiter. And the only thing you have to do to prevent it is consume like a dash of iodized salt at some point in your life. Ok, I'm making stuff up now but it's interesting. Take advantage of wikipedia. I would if I were you. Goiters. Crazy.
In conclusion, the 'tenish zenab' (small rain) season has come to Ethiopia, making an umbrella a necessary purchase that I have been reluctant to give in to until now. You see, Ethiopians are part of a small sect of people who believe in carrying umbrellas regardless of the weather. Not only am I convinced that this is dangerous (thousands of umbrella wielding people on market day? Someone is going to lose an eyeball), but I'm pretty sure that at some point in my life I've mocked people who carry umbrellas on sunny days. I will not do it. The easiest way to explain this resolve has been to state that I don't currently own an umbrella… however I was caught out in the tenish zenab, which is not so tenish. Thunder, lightening, and torrential downpours are an every afternoon occurrence, usually perfectly timed to the moment I walk out the office door on my way home. I'm trying to look at the positives and consider it an opportunity to rinse some of the grease out of my washed-twice-weekly hair. Right.
Don't forget to be thankful for food that crunches, consistent internet, and iodized salt!
Much love!
Life in the Finote carries on! Work is slow, but there is hope that it will become more defined soon. My supervisor and I have an appointment to discuss my short-term work plan this week. Even though we are together everyday from, pues, 8:30am till 5:30pm it is still necessary to schedule an appointment. I did participate in a conference on gender equality, a panel discussion at the high school, and English Friday at the prep school. I'm also supposed to start meeting with girls at the prep school during breaks a few days a week. Teachers are concerned that the girls don't actively participate in classroom discussion and want me to help them gain confidence. The teachers at the schools are typically males between the ages of 23 and 27. By typically, I mean that I've met one female teacher in all of Finote Selam and at least 75 male teachers. If I were an adolescent girl, I wouldn't participate either. I want to tell them that the girls need role models. If they want them to have confidence, give them some girl teachers and an example to follow… not sure how that would be received though.
Christie and I have decided to try and get together every other weekend… that's about as long as I can go until the desire to speak English becomes an actual need. So last weekend it was her turn to come here. The Finote went crazy. Two ferenge (foreign) girls with the same name? Whoa. We set out on a hike to my favorite tree in hopes of enjoying another picnic in the out-of-doors. Nope. In a mere matter of seconds we were surrounded. We decided to time the kids, seeing how long it would take for them to get bored of us just sitting there. Turns out we were timing ourselves. We only lasted 4 minutes and 55 seconds until we couldn't handle answering the same questions repeatedly and had exhausted our Amharic vocabulary. We're weak. Turned out well though- we just kept walking and found a lovely river to eat our gummi bears, bananas, and peanut butter by. Later that day we made the most incredible meal and had our inaugural evening of Bible study and quesadillas. You cannot fathom quesadillas this good. With Spanish rice and canned corn? A meal with color! And quality English conversation!
This weekend I headed to Debra Markos because I discovered that the only ingredient I was lacking for banana pancakes (just like banana bread if you don't look at them) is flour, which they don't have in the Finote. There are two peace corps volunteers placed in Debra Markos and while I'm not saying that other people are living more civilized than I am… other people are living more civilized than I am. My first clue that I had been out in the boonies for too long was when I stared at the flushing apparatus on KB's toilet and said, "so… wait… you go to the bathroom inside? And you pull that and the stuff goes somewhere?" I got a "wow Straw" in response. Oops. But once again, going to a bigger town has made me really thankful for the Finote. I like the smallness and that literally everyone knows my name now… ok, sometimes that still freaks me out a bit…
Sunday was another holiday in Ethiopia- Timkat, or Epiphany. It was fun being in Debra Markos to celebrate. We went with KB's landlord to the Orthodox Church for the festivities. Think what it must have been like when the Israelites surrounded Jericho then add traditional Ethiopian garb and ornately dressed priests carrying massive umbrellas and crosses. This is Timkat. Many Orthodox churches here are circular, so people were running/dancing around the church, blowing horns, beating drums, clapping, and doing that guttural Africa yell that is impossible for non-Africans to imitate. I kept waiting for the walls to fall, but they never did. We headed out when too much attention became directed on getting the ferenge to participate in the cultural dancing. It's just embarrassing. But we did continue celebrating on our own by making chocolate pudding (compliments of the Luetchfords… brilliant people really) topped with mashed up Oreos. What are holidays without desserts?
I'm again noticing a fixation on food in these blogs which is really only interesting if you're the person eating so I'm going to endeavor to diversify and include some educational tidbits as well. This week's topic is goiters. I don't think I knew what a goiter really was until coming to Ethiopia… I certainly had never seen one. Did you know it's caused by lack of iodine? It makes the thyroid swell to massive proportions, results in mental impairment, and can cause birth defects. Approximately 655 million people in the world have goiters. I read some crazy statistic on how many of those people are in Ethiopia… but I can't find it anymore and internet has been out in the Finote. You should look it up. Basically every other person you pass on the street here has a goiter. And the only thing you have to do to prevent it is consume like a dash of iodized salt at some point in your life. Ok, I'm making stuff up now but it's interesting. Take advantage of wikipedia. I would if I were you. Goiters. Crazy.
In conclusion, the 'tenish zenab' (small rain) season has come to Ethiopia, making an umbrella a necessary purchase that I have been reluctant to give in to until now. You see, Ethiopians are part of a small sect of people who believe in carrying umbrellas regardless of the weather. Not only am I convinced that this is dangerous (thousands of umbrella wielding people on market day? Someone is going to lose an eyeball), but I'm pretty sure that at some point in my life I've mocked people who carry umbrellas on sunny days. I will not do it. The easiest way to explain this resolve has been to state that I don't currently own an umbrella… however I was caught out in the tenish zenab, which is not so tenish. Thunder, lightening, and torrential downpours are an every afternoon occurrence, usually perfectly timed to the moment I walk out the office door on my way home. I'm trying to look at the positives and consider it an opportunity to rinse some of the grease out of my washed-twice-weekly hair. Right.
Don't forget to be thankful for food that crunches, consistent internet, and iodized salt!
Much love!
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Christmas / New Year's Program? Is possible.
Merry Christmas and Happy 2008 everyone! Or, if you're in Ethiopia, Merry December 15 and Happy 2000! Sure, having your own calendar is cool and unique but it's gotta be weird living seven years and 10 days behind the rest of the world. I guess it'll be nice to have two Christmases…Ethiopia's is January 7 th. And it's been fun celebrating the Millennium again. The new year here began September 11th and the party hasn't stopped yet. "Yeah, yeah, yeah … Millennium" (actual lyrics of a popular song as well as a popular phrase for children to yell at passing foreigners).
As it turns out, Ethiopia is nothing without its programs. There are two categories of programs: 'is possible' and 'is not possible.' Christmas program in Bahir Dar complete with the largest lake in Ethiopia, nature trail, hippos, hot running water, nine other peace corps volunteers, and really old Canadian bird watchers who tell you more than you could possibly want to know about endemic birds? Is possible. Fixing my decaying latrine program? Is not possible.
Those in the near vicinity of Bahir Dar decided to gather and celebrate the holidays… and do some much needed shopping. The program started for me when I stopped by to visit Christie, who lives an hour away… if you get on the right bus. Anyway, her site is in the mountains and we had a full day of hiking in the rural areas. We packed a lunch of peanut butter, bread, raisins, wheat thins, and squirt cheese and enjoyed it on a hillside overlooking running streams and farmland. It felt really right to be in Ethiopia. Her site also includes American missionaries whose program is Forestry, Fruit, and Foraging for Farming Families. The important f-word to note is 'Fruit.' They're introducing different fruits to the area for farmers to grow including apples, strawberries, blueberries, passion fruit (mwuah), nectarines, pears, peaches, and GRAPES. Not much is in season right now, but we did get to eat some really ripe nectarines and some tiny strawberries. It's only an hour away. There is no way to express the emotions I feel with written words.
Bahir Dar was big and overwhelming and civilized and has a lake with water and restaurants with pizza and ice cream and shaded parks with benches and TVs with English Premier League soccer (I root for Arsenal and Fabregast is my favorite player. Who knew?) and is simply delightful for a weekend. We cooked an American Christmas dinner complete with everything anyone ever received in a Christmas package including: Pringles, Christmas tree Little Debbies, canned cranberry sauce, stovetop stuffing, cheddar mashed potatoes, premium canned ham fried in chicken fat, fried chicken, kraft mac & cheese, no-bake cookies, hummus and bread, coke, PURed water, and popcorn. When I say fried chicken, I obviously mean that we bought two chickens from the market, Lavis (previously known as Levi…then the Ethiopians got ahold of him) sawed their heads off while they were still tied together by the feet, then Beth, Anna, and Christie plucked, gutted, and fried them. The second chicken saw what was coming, was not pleased to be part of the program, attempted to escape, dragged the decapitated chicken that was tied to it, and coated Lavis with blood. I took no part in this program. I was, however, in charge of the premium canned ham program, which was a surprising success…thank you dad. We all felt adequately disgusted with ourselves after eating all this, but in the words of C. Smith, "forget it. I have no regrets. I'd do it all over again if I could."
You may be interested to know that since returning home today I have witnessed a wild stampede of approx. 50 horses down the main street of the Finote and not only did a chicken walk into my house, but so did a goat. I find these occurrences curious because until today I had not seen a single horse in the Finote and no one on my compound owns a chicken. Or a goat. It's really nice to be back though, which was a good feeling to discover. It's good to be among people who know me, to be called temermeroo again, to see familiar faces, to talk to my shoe-shining friends who used to be rude until I told them that nice boys didn't talk like that. We're pretty tight now.
So, before the Christmas program, I had been in the Finote for two weeks on my own and it's been really good! We hit the ground running at work: doing more HIV testing at schools, distributing uniforms and school supplies to orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs), and attempting to hire a secretary for our office. We're also starting two income-generating projects for older OVCs who didn't pass the test to go on to more schooling. We're helping them open a hair saloon and Laundromat, jobs that will hopefully give them skills to sustain them in the future. When I say "we," I mean these projects have been in the works since before I've been here and I'm just offering positive reinforcement. There is another group of OVCs that they want me to come up with a project for on my own… I'm supposed to identify a gap in the Finote Selam market and find a way to fill it. Right. Because gaps in markets are easily identifiable in the first two weeks of living in a town. I'm still trying to find the market.
You may have heard that I've been having a bit of a rat issue. For those who haven't heard- I have a bit of a rat issue. He kept coming in my bedroom, though I couldn't figure out why. There's no food in there. After the first week I kinda got used to him, didn't mind so much, was able to sleep through his scurrying, and even considered giving him a name. Then I discovered what he was after. I had a pile of laundry on the floor (not because I'm being Schloppy, but for lack of a better place at the current moment) and apparently I had spilt something on one of my skirts. Must have been tasty, because the stupid rat chewed a hole through my red skirt. This decreases my outfit variety options by at least 1/7 th. I had been accommodating and understanding; now I am angry and my vengeance shall know no bounds. I bought some rat traps, (which I affectionately refer to as Buford 1 and 2 after the illustrious Buford the Rat Trap Racer) when I went to the big city. This aggression shall not stand any longer.
In other news, people here have begun questioning if it is safe for me to live on my own. My landlord's wife, who speaks maybe 3 words of English, even had the audacity to ask if I had ever taken a home economics class. The questions began in earnest after the great Vegetable Oil Spill of 2007 (or 2000 depending on which calendar you use). It's embarrassing and I don't like to talk about it, but the result was my left knee swelling to the size of a softball and developing a bruise that still has the locals talking. I will not be defeated though! I will learn how to cook and I will not get a maid! So ha! Really, I'm kinda having fun. It's like camping and I like camping. Incidentally, the vegetable oil was imported from Malaysia and is a safety hazard. If any of you (Candis) are considering moving to Malaysia for two years… I would think twice. Or avoid the vegetable oil.
Lately God has really been putting 2 Timothy 1:7 on my mind- "for God gave us a Spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." It's been very easy for me to get in the habit, already, of staying in the safe and easy places. I go to work, home, post office, and internet. I have friends in these places and by associating only with them, I avoid the inevitable questions and stares from strangers. I avoid having to be loving to people I don't know. I avoid the exhaustion of trying to come up with things to say to these people. God has been revealing the error of this and also reminding me of His ability to supply the energy and love that I don't have. So I've been going for runs in the morning to familiarize myself with the town, going for hikes after work, and trying out new cafes to read at instead of sitting in my house. God has really blessed these times and I've met a lot of people. I'm praying these develop into friendships. I told one guy that I needed some friends that were girls and he volunteered his wife. It was really funny, but he was serious. She has invited me over for a cooking lesson and to become her friend. I'm pretty excited.
Ok, this is ridiculously long but I'm going to justify it because it's New Years Eve and I am determined to entertain myself until midnight. Not really sure what happens then, but it'll be a good program. Is possible.
Much love and Happy New Year!
As it turns out, Ethiopia is nothing without its programs. There are two categories of programs: 'is possible' and 'is not possible.' Christmas program in Bahir Dar complete with the largest lake in Ethiopia, nature trail, hippos, hot running water, nine other peace corps volunteers, and really old Canadian bird watchers who tell you more than you could possibly want to know about endemic birds? Is possible. Fixing my decaying latrine program? Is not possible.
Those in the near vicinity of Bahir Dar decided to gather and celebrate the holidays… and do some much needed shopping. The program started for me when I stopped by to visit Christie, who lives an hour away… if you get on the right bus. Anyway, her site is in the mountains and we had a full day of hiking in the rural areas. We packed a lunch of peanut butter, bread, raisins, wheat thins, and squirt cheese and enjoyed it on a hillside overlooking running streams and farmland. It felt really right to be in Ethiopia. Her site also includes American missionaries whose program is Forestry, Fruit, and Foraging for Farming Families. The important f-word to note is 'Fruit.' They're introducing different fruits to the area for farmers to grow including apples, strawberries, blueberries, passion fruit (mwuah), nectarines, pears, peaches, and GRAPES. Not much is in season right now, but we did get to eat some really ripe nectarines and some tiny strawberries. It's only an hour away. There is no way to express the emotions I feel with written words.
Bahir Dar was big and overwhelming and civilized and has a lake with water and restaurants with pizza and ice cream and shaded parks with benches and TVs with English Premier League soccer (I root for Arsenal and Fabregast is my favorite player. Who knew?) and is simply delightful for a weekend. We cooked an American Christmas dinner complete with everything anyone ever received in a Christmas package including: Pringles, Christmas tree Little Debbies, canned cranberry sauce, stovetop stuffing, cheddar mashed potatoes, premium canned ham fried in chicken fat, fried chicken, kraft mac & cheese, no-bake cookies, hummus and bread, coke, PURed water, and popcorn. When I say fried chicken, I obviously mean that we bought two chickens from the market, Lavis (previously known as Levi…then the Ethiopians got ahold of him) sawed their heads off while they were still tied together by the feet, then Beth, Anna, and Christie plucked, gutted, and fried them. The second chicken saw what was coming, was not pleased to be part of the program, attempted to escape, dragged the decapitated chicken that was tied to it, and coated Lavis with blood. I took no part in this program. I was, however, in charge of the premium canned ham program, which was a surprising success…thank you dad. We all felt adequately disgusted with ourselves after eating all this, but in the words of C. Smith, "forget it. I have no regrets. I'd do it all over again if I could."
You may be interested to know that since returning home today I have witnessed a wild stampede of approx. 50 horses down the main street of the Finote and not only did a chicken walk into my house, but so did a goat. I find these occurrences curious because until today I had not seen a single horse in the Finote and no one on my compound owns a chicken. Or a goat. It's really nice to be back though, which was a good feeling to discover. It's good to be among people who know me, to be called temermeroo again, to see familiar faces, to talk to my shoe-shining friends who used to be rude until I told them that nice boys didn't talk like that. We're pretty tight now.
So, before the Christmas program, I had been in the Finote for two weeks on my own and it's been really good! We hit the ground running at work: doing more HIV testing at schools, distributing uniforms and school supplies to orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs), and attempting to hire a secretary for our office. We're also starting two income-generating projects for older OVCs who didn't pass the test to go on to more schooling. We're helping them open a hair saloon and Laundromat, jobs that will hopefully give them skills to sustain them in the future. When I say "we," I mean these projects have been in the works since before I've been here and I'm just offering positive reinforcement. There is another group of OVCs that they want me to come up with a project for on my own… I'm supposed to identify a gap in the Finote Selam market and find a way to fill it. Right. Because gaps in markets are easily identifiable in the first two weeks of living in a town. I'm still trying to find the market.
You may have heard that I've been having a bit of a rat issue. For those who haven't heard- I have a bit of a rat issue. He kept coming in my bedroom, though I couldn't figure out why. There's no food in there. After the first week I kinda got used to him, didn't mind so much, was able to sleep through his scurrying, and even considered giving him a name. Then I discovered what he was after. I had a pile of laundry on the floor (not because I'm being Schloppy, but for lack of a better place at the current moment) and apparently I had spilt something on one of my skirts. Must have been tasty, because the stupid rat chewed a hole through my red skirt. This decreases my outfit variety options by at least 1/7 th. I had been accommodating and understanding; now I am angry and my vengeance shall know no bounds. I bought some rat traps, (which I affectionately refer to as Buford 1 and 2 after the illustrious Buford the Rat Trap Racer) when I went to the big city. This aggression shall not stand any longer.
In other news, people here have begun questioning if it is safe for me to live on my own. My landlord's wife, who speaks maybe 3 words of English, even had the audacity to ask if I had ever taken a home economics class. The questions began in earnest after the great Vegetable Oil Spill of 2007 (or 2000 depending on which calendar you use). It's embarrassing and I don't like to talk about it, but the result was my left knee swelling to the size of a softball and developing a bruise that still has the locals talking. I will not be defeated though! I will learn how to cook and I will not get a maid! So ha! Really, I'm kinda having fun. It's like camping and I like camping. Incidentally, the vegetable oil was imported from Malaysia and is a safety hazard. If any of you (Candis) are considering moving to Malaysia for two years… I would think twice. Or avoid the vegetable oil.
Lately God has really been putting 2 Timothy 1:7 on my mind- "for God gave us a Spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." It's been very easy for me to get in the habit, already, of staying in the safe and easy places. I go to work, home, post office, and internet. I have friends in these places and by associating only with them, I avoid the inevitable questions and stares from strangers. I avoid having to be loving to people I don't know. I avoid the exhaustion of trying to come up with things to say to these people. God has been revealing the error of this and also reminding me of His ability to supply the energy and love that I don't have. So I've been going for runs in the morning to familiarize myself with the town, going for hikes after work, and trying out new cafes to read at instead of sitting in my house. God has really blessed these times and I've met a lot of people. I'm praying these develop into friendships. I told one guy that I needed some friends that were girls and he volunteered his wife. It was really funny, but he was serious. She has invited me over for a cooking lesson and to become her friend. I'm pretty excited.
Ok, this is ridiculously long but I'm going to justify it because it's New Years Eve and I am determined to entertain myself until midnight. Not really sure what happens then, but it'll be a good program. Is possible.
Much love and Happy New Year!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
PCV Induction Press Release
Post from Mom: In the group photo, Kristen is in the second row from bottom, 3rd in from the left. Click on the picture for larger view.
http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1284
http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1284
"The air-conditioning… how do you find it?"
I have yet to figure out a good way to answer this question without laughing. What you are tempted to say is: "I don't find it. Have you ever seen an air conditioner here? No. Didn't think so. I believe what you mean to ask is 'How do you like the weather?' Why don't we practice saying that?" If you reply in this manner however, you will only receive blank stares. It's best just to say, "the air-conditioning… it is beautiful." Just keep that in mind for when you come to visit… as you all should.
So much has happened in the last few days… it's really just incredible… that I feel a timeline is the most effective means of communication.
Sunday, Dec 9th: We celebrated my host sister's 10th birthday. Mind you, her birthday is not until sometime in January. She just wanted to celebrate with the white people. Imagine your tenth birthday party. Now throw in 5 foreigners twice your age. Now imagine them making up a birthday song in your mother tongue that sounds absolutely ridiculous and does not make much sense. Then, invite the town professional photographer who has a camera from the 1970s and doesn't know how to use it to document the occasion. Be sure to get both indoor and outdoor shots and put the foreigners in poses that make them laugh so hard that they pee their pants. Literally. And after the guests leave, be sure to have your own personal foreigner participate in family dance time. Even if she can't dance, it'll be good for a laugh.
Tuesday, Dec 11th: final language test! The main thing we were supposed to know were the three goals of peace corps. I decided I will never use that in real conversation and thus made up my own goals. All three of them were 'to be a good HIV/AIDS teacher'. I can communicate this very well. Forget promoting peace and sharing cultures. Who needs it? Surprisingly. I still passed. Incidentally, the day before the test they decided to tell us that the language teachers aren't accredited yet… so we can take the test again in two years and get some paper that makes us official Amharic speakers. This made staying up until 2:00am watching 5 episodes of the West Wing more appealing than studying. That's right… one of the girls brought every single episode of West Wing.
Thursday, Dec. 13th: Swearing in! Incredible day. Everyone should live at a US Embassy, I've decided. They're just so neat and clean and have toilets that flush with a real handle and people who do cool things work there. And they have turkey sandwiches. And these little egg roll type things. And- you'll never believe this- I ran into the country director of Food for the Hungry! I had met him when I interned with FH two summers ago and he remembered me! And he invited me to meet up with a team that's coming over from the States in March, which will be led by one of my FH friends! And I'm just really excited. And 10 Things I Hate About You was on tv when we got back to the hotel… it just doesn't get much better.
Friday, Dec. 14th: When your day begins with CNN, you know it's going to be a good one. Not only did I find potholders and Raid to take care of my ant problem, but we found Kaldi's Coffee! I promise- it's almost like being in Starbucks. It even smells like it. And they have Chai Tea! It's pretty terrible, but just the fact that they're trying is amazing.
Saturday, Dec. 15th: we decided at 8:19am that this day needed proper documentation. So here's what we came up with:
5:00am: wake up. Immediately turn on CNN for one last viewing.
5:30am: breakfast false alarm #1
5:45am: breakfast false alarm #2
6:00am: breakfast, complete with firfir (if you don't know, you don't want to know). Incidentally, this is the time we were told the buses would be leaving.
6:30am-7:42am: watch luggage get loaded.
7:42am: buses actually left the hotel.
7:53am: 1st stop- man boards bus to say "hey guys! Safe journey." He then exits. We decide that, upon returning to the states, we will do this to every foreign tour bus we see, provided we know how to say, "hey guys!" in their native tongue.
8:05am: realize we're going the wrong way. No worries. We'll just perform an 8-point turn in the middle of the road and block traffic in both directions for approximately 5 minutes.
8:15am- 2nd stop- police
8:19am- sideswiped a donkey. No lie. We think he's ok.
8:45am- blaring music incident. Fortunately, we were not on public transportation this time, so we were able to get the situation sorted out.
9:34am- 3rd stop. Police man boards bus. Bus driver almost gets a ticket for not wearing a seat belt, but manages to talk (bribe?) the cop out of it. I can respect that…
9:40am- 4th stop. We are not sure why this program took place.
10:27am- 5th stop-police.
10:58am- 6th stop- police.
11:17am- 7th stop- police.
11:28am- begin descent into the Gorge.
11:49am- violent bump results in C. Smith's bloody nose.
12:23pm- cross the Blue Nile and begin ascent.
1:08pm- 8th stop at a stop sign- the first of it's kind that I have seen here… even in Addis there are no stop signs. This one is just hanging out in the middle of the Gorge highway. There does not seem to be a reason for this program either.
1:09pm- violent jolt #2. I was standing. Death seemed imminent.
1:30pm- lunch stop. Drop off 3 people at their site, not to be seen again until in-service training in April. Weird.
2:31pm- back on the road.
2:45pm- 9th stop- police.
3:20pm- near sheep slaying. Sheep escaped with slight glaze.
3:26pm- 10th stop- pick up 2 police officers and machine gun.
3:36pm- police officers and machine gun disembark without incident.
4:30pm- drop off two more. And then there were 11.
5:12pm- near baby cow slaying. This cow should not still be alive.
6:08pm- arrive in Finote Selam! Home sweet home!
So, tonight is my second first night in my own house! My landlord and his family are great… they had me in for dinner and bunna. His wife, whose name I really need to learn but feel awkward about asking at this point, and I have a date to go buy house wares at the market on Tuesday!
Hope that everyone is having Happy Holidays and enjoying time with friends and family ! Miss you all and hope to talk to you soon! Much love!
So much has happened in the last few days… it's really just incredible… that I feel a timeline is the most effective means of communication.
Sunday, Dec 9th: We celebrated my host sister's 10th birthday. Mind you, her birthday is not until sometime in January. She just wanted to celebrate with the white people. Imagine your tenth birthday party. Now throw in 5 foreigners twice your age. Now imagine them making up a birthday song in your mother tongue that sounds absolutely ridiculous and does not make much sense. Then, invite the town professional photographer who has a camera from the 1970s and doesn't know how to use it to document the occasion. Be sure to get both indoor and outdoor shots and put the foreigners in poses that make them laugh so hard that they pee their pants. Literally. And after the guests leave, be sure to have your own personal foreigner participate in family dance time. Even if she can't dance, it'll be good for a laugh.
Tuesday, Dec 11th: final language test! The main thing we were supposed to know were the three goals of peace corps. I decided I will never use that in real conversation and thus made up my own goals. All three of them were 'to be a good HIV/AIDS teacher'. I can communicate this very well. Forget promoting peace and sharing cultures. Who needs it? Surprisingly. I still passed. Incidentally, the day before the test they decided to tell us that the language teachers aren't accredited yet… so we can take the test again in two years and get some paper that makes us official Amharic speakers. This made staying up until 2:00am watching 5 episodes of the West Wing more appealing than studying. That's right… one of the girls brought every single episode of West Wing.
Thursday, Dec. 13th: Swearing in! Incredible day. Everyone should live at a US Embassy, I've decided. They're just so neat and clean and have toilets that flush with a real handle and people who do cool things work there. And they have turkey sandwiches. And these little egg roll type things. And- you'll never believe this- I ran into the country director of Food for the Hungry! I had met him when I interned with FH two summers ago and he remembered me! And he invited me to meet up with a team that's coming over from the States in March, which will be led by one of my FH friends! And I'm just really excited. And 10 Things I Hate About You was on tv when we got back to the hotel… it just doesn't get much better.
Friday, Dec. 14th: When your day begins with CNN, you know it's going to be a good one. Not only did I find potholders and Raid to take care of my ant problem, but we found Kaldi's Coffee! I promise- it's almost like being in Starbucks. It even smells like it. And they have Chai Tea! It's pretty terrible, but just the fact that they're trying is amazing.
Saturday, Dec. 15th: we decided at 8:19am that this day needed proper documentation. So here's what we came up with:
5:00am: wake up. Immediately turn on CNN for one last viewing.
5:30am: breakfast false alarm #1
5:45am: breakfast false alarm #2
6:00am: breakfast, complete with firfir (if you don't know, you don't want to know). Incidentally, this is the time we were told the buses would be leaving.
6:30am-7:42am: watch luggage get loaded.
7:42am: buses actually left the hotel.
7:53am: 1st stop- man boards bus to say "hey guys! Safe journey." He then exits. We decide that, upon returning to the states, we will do this to every foreign tour bus we see, provided we know how to say, "hey guys!" in their native tongue.
8:05am: realize we're going the wrong way. No worries. We'll just perform an 8-point turn in the middle of the road and block traffic in both directions for approximately 5 minutes.
8:15am- 2nd stop- police
8:19am- sideswiped a donkey. No lie. We think he's ok.
8:45am- blaring music incident. Fortunately, we were not on public transportation this time, so we were able to get the situation sorted out.
9:34am- 3rd stop. Police man boards bus. Bus driver almost gets a ticket for not wearing a seat belt, but manages to talk (bribe?) the cop out of it. I can respect that…
9:40am- 4th stop. We are not sure why this program took place.
10:27am- 5th stop-police.
10:58am- 6th stop- police.
11:17am- 7th stop- police.
11:28am- begin descent into the Gorge.
11:49am- violent bump results in C. Smith's bloody nose.
12:23pm- cross the Blue Nile and begin ascent.
1:08pm- 8th stop at a stop sign- the first of it's kind that I have seen here… even in Addis there are no stop signs. This one is just hanging out in the middle of the Gorge highway. There does not seem to be a reason for this program either.
1:09pm- violent jolt #2. I was standing. Death seemed imminent.
1:30pm- lunch stop. Drop off 3 people at their site, not to be seen again until in-service training in April. Weird.
2:31pm- back on the road.
2:45pm- 9th stop- police.
3:20pm- near sheep slaying. Sheep escaped with slight glaze.
3:26pm- 10th stop- pick up 2 police officers and machine gun.
3:36pm- police officers and machine gun disembark without incident.
4:30pm- drop off two more. And then there were 11.
5:12pm- near baby cow slaying. This cow should not still be alive.
6:08pm- arrive in Finote Selam! Home sweet home!
So, tonight is my second first night in my own house! My landlord and his family are great… they had me in for dinner and bunna. His wife, whose name I really need to learn but feel awkward about asking at this point, and I have a date to go buy house wares at the market on Tuesday!
Hope that everyone is having Happy Holidays and enjoying time with friends and family ! Miss you all and hope to talk to you soon! Much love!
Monday, December 3, 2007
The Stuff Legends are made of…?
Lessons Learned during site visit:
1. When it's 5:00 am, still pitch black outside, and your supervisor disappears into the surging throng of people at the Addis Ababa bus station who are pushing, screaming, and hollering in an attempt to find their bus, leaving you lost, completely alone, and vulnerable with half of your worldly belongings strapped to your back- the best way to keep from panicking is to remind yourself that you're not in mortal danger, you're in Ethiopia, and this might be funny… someday. Not yet.
2. When rescue comes in the form of tall, dark, and handsome peace corps driver, be grateful. Even if he is accompanied by the slightly out-of-touch training director who reassures you by saying, "this is the stuff legends are made of." Really? Can you please give a single example of a legend that resulted from bus station chaos?
2a. When you're waiting for an hour for your supervisor to reappear and your worldly possessions get too heavy, don't set them down behind a bus. The bus may decide to back up, resulting in a near, true Catan-strophe (Catan was in the backpack… could have been so much worse than it was).
3. When looking at the route to site, you may be tempted to get excited about driving through the Blue Nile Gorge. Resist. The Blue Nile Gorge is strikingly similar to the Grand Canyon, except green and grassy. There is a reason there isn't a highway running through the Grand Canyon. It would be miserable. There is, however, a highway through the Gorge. It is frequented by overcrowded buses full of people who are convinced that opening the windows to allow fresh air in is the source of all disease. Bodies crammed together combined with winding roads with steep drop-offs combined with blazing sun combined with no ventilation combined with no opportunity to relieve yourself for 8 hours combined with a bumpy dirt road…. Delightful.
3a. If you must ride Ethiopian public transportation, which should be avoided at all costs, don't sit directly underneath the stereo speaker. Unless you like blaring Ethiopian youth group music. Then, by all means… knock yourself out.
4. Upon arriving at site, before agreeing to speak in front of "a few classes" about the importance of being tested for HIV, a few things you might consider: A) You hate talking in front of people. It makes you nervous. B) A class consists of 2,000+ students. C) If you tell approx. 6,000 students to 'temermeroo' (test yourself), they will then know you as 'temermeroo' and all 6,000 of them will yell it at you every single time they pass you on the street. Think carefully before you decide what name you want to go by for the next two years.
5. If you enter your house for the first time and see the only electrical outlet dangling from a wire from the ceiling and think "that could be a safety hazard…" do yourself a favor and keep that in mind. Don't just grab the socket. You'll touch the wrong wire, giving yourself an electrical shock akin to the one you received in the 4th grade when you poured water on an electric fence while holding a metal pan. You don't forget those shocks.
6. Once ascertaining that the bananas are the reason you must run to the latrine every half hour with the worst intestinal problems you've experienced thus far, don't keep eating them. It's not worth it- even if you bought a kilo of them and don't want to waste them. Even if you're craving fruit… learn your lessons the first 3 times. The 4th will strike in the middle of the night and it won't be pretty.
6a. Always keep a roll of toilet paper with you. Always.
7. After spending a week speaking only broken English with a few Amharic phrases thrown in, you may start to think to yourself in this way. For example: "Now. What you do? I am… how do you say… tired? Pajamas. Where? Have not seen in bizuu kenoch (many days). Sleep just in clothes? Ishee (ok)." Don't freak out. I think this might be normal. It helps to rejoin an English speaking community. If this isn't an option, perhaps reading a book would help.
So site visit went well…. Interesting, but good. I'm working in an office that is part of the city administration complex. Not only is the HIV Prevention Office there, but also the Women's Affairs Office, the Youth and Sport Office, and the Microfinance Office. I should be able to find something to keep me busy. I have a quaint-ish two-bedroom house on a compound with my landlord, his wife, and two kids. The city is green, I saw rain for the first time, and there are lots of trees. It was awesome to see more of Ethiopia - it's beautiful. The gorge really is incredible… though I would recommend standing on the rim rather than descending into it.
Things to pray for: that these last 10 days (weird) in Wolisso would be full of good fellowship and community. That we would be protected from attacks of doubt, home/friend-sickness, and loneliness… That the Holy Spirit would prepare and strengthen us for the changes that are coming.
Thanks for the prayers and much love! Miss you guys…
1. When it's 5:00 am, still pitch black outside, and your supervisor disappears into the surging throng of people at the Addis Ababa bus station who are pushing, screaming, and hollering in an attempt to find their bus, leaving you lost, completely alone, and vulnerable with half of your worldly belongings strapped to your back- the best way to keep from panicking is to remind yourself that you're not in mortal danger, you're in Ethiopia, and this might be funny… someday. Not yet.
2. When rescue comes in the form of tall, dark, and handsome peace corps driver, be grateful. Even if he is accompanied by the slightly out-of-touch training director who reassures you by saying, "this is the stuff legends are made of." Really? Can you please give a single example of a legend that resulted from bus station chaos?
2a. When you're waiting for an hour for your supervisor to reappear and your worldly possessions get too heavy, don't set them down behind a bus. The bus may decide to back up, resulting in a near, true Catan-strophe (Catan was in the backpack… could have been so much worse than it was).
3. When looking at the route to site, you may be tempted to get excited about driving through the Blue Nile Gorge. Resist. The Blue Nile Gorge is strikingly similar to the Grand Canyon, except green and grassy. There is a reason there isn't a highway running through the Grand Canyon. It would be miserable. There is, however, a highway through the Gorge. It is frequented by overcrowded buses full of people who are convinced that opening the windows to allow fresh air in is the source of all disease. Bodies crammed together combined with winding roads with steep drop-offs combined with blazing sun combined with no ventilation combined with no opportunity to relieve yourself for 8 hours combined with a bumpy dirt road…. Delightful.
3a. If you must ride Ethiopian public transportation, which should be avoided at all costs, don't sit directly underneath the stereo speaker. Unless you like blaring Ethiopian youth group music. Then, by all means… knock yourself out.
4. Upon arriving at site, before agreeing to speak in front of "a few classes" about the importance of being tested for HIV, a few things you might consider: A) You hate talking in front of people. It makes you nervous. B) A class consists of 2,000+ students. C) If you tell approx. 6,000 students to 'temermeroo' (test yourself), they will then know you as 'temermeroo' and all 6,000 of them will yell it at you every single time they pass you on the street. Think carefully before you decide what name you want to go by for the next two years.
5. If you enter your house for the first time and see the only electrical outlet dangling from a wire from the ceiling and think "that could be a safety hazard…" do yourself a favor and keep that in mind. Don't just grab the socket. You'll touch the wrong wire, giving yourself an electrical shock akin to the one you received in the 4th grade when you poured water on an electric fence while holding a metal pan. You don't forget those shocks.
6. Once ascertaining that the bananas are the reason you must run to the latrine every half hour with the worst intestinal problems you've experienced thus far, don't keep eating them. It's not worth it- even if you bought a kilo of them and don't want to waste them. Even if you're craving fruit… learn your lessons the first 3 times. The 4th will strike in the middle of the night and it won't be pretty.
6a. Always keep a roll of toilet paper with you. Always.
7. After spending a week speaking only broken English with a few Amharic phrases thrown in, you may start to think to yourself in this way. For example: "Now. What you do? I am… how do you say… tired? Pajamas. Where? Have not seen in bizuu kenoch (many days). Sleep just in clothes? Ishee (ok)." Don't freak out. I think this might be normal. It helps to rejoin an English speaking community. If this isn't an option, perhaps reading a book would help.
So site visit went well…. Interesting, but good. I'm working in an office that is part of the city administration complex. Not only is the HIV Prevention Office there, but also the Women's Affairs Office, the Youth and Sport Office, and the Microfinance Office. I should be able to find something to keep me busy. I have a quaint-ish two-bedroom house on a compound with my landlord, his wife, and two kids. The city is green, I saw rain for the first time, and there are lots of trees. It was awesome to see more of Ethiopia - it's beautiful. The gorge really is incredible… though I would recommend standing on the rim rather than descending into it.
Things to pray for: that these last 10 days (weird) in Wolisso would be full of good fellowship and community. That we would be protected from attacks of doubt, home/friend-sickness, and loneliness… That the Holy Spirit would prepare and strengthen us for the changes that are coming.
Thanks for the prayers and much love! Miss you guys…
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