Day to day life:

Forget needing an alarm clock, there are plenty of other noises to wake a person up around here. Of course you can always count on the roosters, but sometimes also the cows, donkeys and sheep, not to mention the pigeons (whose little feet on the corrugated metal roof sound more like Big Bird's feet) to let you know that they're awake and you might as well be awake too. Other early morning noises include: the Ethiopian Orthodox Church's call to prayer (a man singing over a loud speaker from the church occasionally accompanied by a musical instrument, for certain holidays it can be heard in the middle of the night too) and the buses and trucks bouncing down the road into town. The buses either have their music blaring or their horn honking on their way through town to alert people to the fact that, 'hey, the bus is here, this is your chance to catch it' which is great except when its before 7am, in my opinion. With any combination of these noises I'm usually awake sometime in the six o'clock hour. 

For those that are curious I usually wash my hair once a week and bathe once or twice a week but never on the same day because that's too much work. Seriously! I'm a person who loves a hot shower and feeling all squeaky clean. But with no running water (except at nicer hotels) it's been an adjustment. Bathing now means splashing a little cold water on myself and calling it good. Because it's cold I use remarkably little water.  It might come as a surprise that it actually feels satisfactory and even good, but it does! Of course if I had the option for a daily hot shower I'd take it. I wash my hands and face often and with the supply of wipes I brought from home and those sent to me (thank you!) I manage to feel as fresh as a daisy everyday. Hair washing day involves flipping my head upside down over my basin and pouring cold water over my head and shampooing and conditioning like usual. It's my indulgence. It takes a fair amount of water but it feels so great to have clean hair and to be able to wear my hair down and curly for a few days before pulling it back for the rest of the week. 

The water supply comes through a water pump in our compound randomly every few days. Usually the landlady or neighbor will tell me when it comes and I will fetch a bucketful to last me for a few days. If the water doesn't come then the landlord has a storage container that they keep mostly full that I can collect from. I have to manage my water supply to last for bathing, washes dishes, washing clothes, and making water for drinking and cooking. We also collect rainwater and I use that for washing my feet and shoes. I'm impressed with how little water I use but I'm sure I still use more than the average Ethiopian, they know how to use water efficiently. Washing clothes takes up the most water and its a lot of work to do it by hand so things get washed way less often than they would back home. I wash a few things every week and hang them out to dry - just a few things at a time is about as much as I enjoy doing. 

It's difficult to know how to dress for the climate of this particular region of the country. There is a significant temperature difference when it changes from sunny to cloudy and then even cooler when it rains. Layering is the name of the game. 

I have no refrigerator of course, I prepare all of my meals as I go. The fresh produce that I buy at the market gets eaten within the week. I make rice, pasta, soup, etc. with varying combinations of vegetables and eggs. As a person who is happy to eat vegetables all day, everyday, I've felt satisfied so far. At the supermarkets in the bigger towns I've bought things like tofu, quick cooking oats, and cheese. 

Other sights, sounds and smells that I might experience on any given day include: the call to prayer from the mosque, the spirited services of the Protestant church just down the road (they pipe it out over a loudspeaker), kids playing directly across the street in a small open, recreational space, the sound of women pounding (grinding) coffee beans at different times during the day, the smell of incense burning when coffee is being prepared, dogs barking at night - what starts as just a few turns into all the dogs in town, the occasional smell of burning trash, motorbikes buzzing down the road. 

Every evening the landlady still brings me buna (she's also started bringing me a cup at lunchtime, so much for cutting back!) and sometimes bread or on chillier evenings she brings me a cup of some sort of hot porridge. I'm pretty sure she told me she's going to teach me how to make the porridge so when I return to America I can make it there. I told her that where I come from in America its really cold sometimes and she says this porridge is good for health when the weather is cold. She is so kind, sweet and generous, I don't think there is a nicer landlady out there. She works all day cleaning, washing, preparing food and coffee, taking care of other things around the compound, and does it all with a smile on her face, I swear. Amazing. I suspect she and I are about the same age, it's strange to think about how different our lives are. 

Lately I've been spending my evenings catching up on episodes of  Fargo (thanks, Amy!) and eating nut goodie bars, dontcha know?! Sometimes I listen to podcasts that I had saved on my phone before I left the US or read books on my kindle. I should be spending more time studying the language but for now it feels good to take a break and enjoy things that I would do at home.

Some of my decorations to make this place feel like home! I love looking at them. One of my sisters gave me the heart before I moved away as a travel nurse 10+ years ago and it has hung in every home I've lived in since - in other words it's been a lot of places. Feel free to send a picture to add to the wall!

Love from Ethiopia! 

What I've been up to...

I really enjoy my morning walk to the health center. It's only about five minutes. It's usually pretty quiet and sometimes the lighting is right so you can see the mountains in the distance with enhanced clarity. Whenever I walk into town the mountains look different, they always look new in someway. Now that it's started raining everyday they are more green - they remind me of 'The Sound of Music' and I imagine myself running up the side and singing a song. I crack myself up. 

For now I've still just been hanging out at the health center getting to know the staff and observing how things work. I was able to go with one of the nurses to a neighboring health post to get to know one of the health extension workers there. We had to go by horse cart which is not what one would call a comfortable ride. But I know things could always be worse - while we're bouncing along on the bumpy dirt road I think to myself 'at least I'm not a laboring mother' - pregnant women in labor come to the health center by horse cart (some come by ambulance if one happens to be available) and two times already I've seen a laboring mother give birth within 30 minutes of getting off the horse cart. I don't have words to describe it, I am in awe. Just getting on and off a horse cart while in active labor is not something I can imagine much less enduring the bumpy ride. These women are something special. Anyway the health post that we went to isn't too far, I could walk there in about an hour and next time I think I'll do just that. It will bring me pleasure to go for a walk and I can take some photos along the way. People don't walk around without a purpose, whenever I'm on my way somewhere people always ask where I'm going, and for those people who feel a responsibility for me here I have to have an answer - if I said 'oh you know just over there a little ways, I promise I'll come back' I don't think they would let me go on my own! The health extension worker at this health post seemed interested in working with me so hopefully we can figure out some projects to work on together. Unfortunately language is an issue, my Oromifa isn't that great and her English isn't that great so there will be some struggles for sure. 

View from the health post that I visited

I've gone to the two schools in town, we have one primary and one secondary, and have been introduced to the students. Both times all the students are gathered outside, staring at me while my counterpart takes advantage of the opportunity to do some health teaching (gobez!) before introducing me. I'm really thankful that I got to be introduced in that way, that all the students in attendance got to see and learn about me at the same time. I think it was effective. The director of the secondary school (9th & 10th grade) has shown an interest in working with me (like the most interest out of everyone) so I'm excited to see what we can figure out. 

The walk to the secondary school 

Part of the way is lined with cactus, it's peaceful!

I also had a community meeting arranged and facilitated by Peace Corps where I was formally introduced to the important community leaders. We had a good turn out and I was well received. I wasn't surprised, I can't say enough how welcoming and supportive this community is. One of the older men who came said (my translation), 'yeah I saw her last week at the market, we exchanged greetings, she knows Oromifa' and like that's all I needed to do to be accepted by him. Everywhere I go whenever I see someone looking at me I greet them in the local language because 1) it's awkward to be stared at and if I say something it dissipates the awkwardness, 2) as soon as people hear me speak in their mother tongue it brings a smile to their face and who doesn't want a smile and 3) it helps people feel comfortable with and accepting of this new outsider in their community. 

Now that I've been introduced to lots of people, more and more I'm being called by name. Rather than calling out 'Ferenji' to get my attention the kids will say 'Angela!' It's pretty cute. Of course there is still the occasional child screaming 'Faaaa ren jeeeeeee!' like their head is about to explode because I'm the most exciting thing they've seen all day. The other morning a little girl was wailing and carrying on after a little boy did something to upset her but upon seeing me she stopped mid-wail and said with a surprised voice 'Ferenji?!' and immediately stopped her carrying on to watch me walk past. All of us who saw this shared a collective laugh. It feels strange to have this effect, all I can do is laugh. 

Love from Ethiopia!

Compound Life (ft. baby donkeys and electrical fires)

My morning walk to the health center. 

I live in a fenced-in compound on the edge of my town. The compound family (the landlord, his wife & two sons) lives in the main house and they rent out three rooms on either side of their house. The compound family is really great, the landlord knows how to take care of business and the landlady is super sweet - she invites me over or brings me buna and food everyday. Sometimes it's a little much if I've already eaten and then I have to eat more, but it's very kind of course. The 12yo son is helpful and nice, the 5yo son couldn't care less about me. He's super busy doing 5yo boy stuff. When he does talk to me I can't understand a word he is saying, I swear he's speaking Italian (he's not really). The two other neighbors in the compound work at the health center. One of them has two kids, a 9yo daughter and 7yo son. It's fun to have kids around. The first day I moved in they were really curious and all up in my room. But since then they have been respectful of my privacy and my space. The compound family has animals - oxen, cows, a horse, donkeys, chickens and a couple of cats. There was previously only one chicken; they recently acquired 3 hens and 2 roosters. I was thinking it would be great if that meant the possibility of buying eggs from the landlord in the future but with Fasika (Easter) just around the corner it's more likely that the chickens will be made into Doro Wat (traditional chicken stew) for the occasion. And the other day I woke up to a brand new baby donkey in the yard! My heart skipped a beat. Baby donkeys are my favorite and I didn't know we had a donkey that was expecting. Whenever I see a baby donkey I have to resist the urge to hug it. (I would never really try to hug a donkey but dang they're cute.) 

Not a good pic but this is him on his first day of life. Hopefully there are more photo ops in the future. 

On the subject of animals - I have woken up a few nights to the calls of a hyena roaming the street outside. They make some very distinct sounds and when it's close by it is quite loud. I could tell when he was right outside and when he was further down the road. I am safe inside my home, inside our fenced in compound but it's still freaky! 

I bought an electric stove for cooking, rather than the traditional charcoal stove that most people use. There is also the possibility of buying a propane or kerosene stove but I've had pretty consistent electricity at my home and electric is so easy. I had been using the stove without any trouble for a week but then I decided to tempt fate. It's actually a double burner electric stove - I had previously only ever used one burner at a time but this particular day I decided to use both at the same time. It started out ok. Then out of nowhere I hear sizzling and crackling and see sparks (imagine fireworks) and smoke as the wire to the outlet is on fire. The wire is hanging from the ceiling and then comes down alongside the wall (standard procedure). I'm completely taken off guard and then panicking as I don't know what to do except call for the neighbor while seeing the wire burn all the way up out of my reach. I manage to yell for her to come quickly in Oromifa - by the time she arrives the wire is still on fire but has stopped at the plastic woven tarp that makes up my ceiling, burning a hole in it. My room is right next the landlord's main living area so I imagined something more catching fire and then being responsible for burning the entire house down. I was a basket case! Luckily the landlord was home and he quickly turned off the electricity so the wire that was on fire went out. Everyone was remarkably calm about it (except me of course). The landlord just steps right in and starts replacing and upgrading the wiring. My lunch hadn't finished cooking so the neighbor kindly invited me over to eat with them. We had a good laugh about the day's excitement. And then later when we went to the health center we recounted the story and had another good laugh. I think the landlady felt sorry for me because that night she brought me more snacks than she usually does. And now there is a permanent singe mark on the wall and hole in the tarp ceiling, so am always reminded of the day I almost burned the house down. 

My water filter (so I don't get sick drinking the water), the things I use for washing (my dishes, my clothes, myself), and my bed with bed net. 

Love from Ethiopia!

To market, to market

We have a small market on Wednesdays and a big market on Sundays in my town of about 3,000 people. There isn't a fresh fruit or vegetable to be found around town unless it's market day, so to eat for the week one needs to plan their trip to the market accordingly. I had been waiting for Sunday to come for a few days, I was looking forward to stocking up on fresh veggies that I could be excited about eating for the week. I had gone to the market the week before with my neighbor so I kind of knew where things were located. Going to the market is not especially enjoyable - there's a lot of people making their way around a small space and I attract a lot of attention as a Ferenji (sometimes it's ok when it's just people smiling and showing an interest in me, other times it's exhausting when I'm being yelled at repeatedly to get my attention or a crowd gathers around me - I understand their curiosity about this newcomer to their village but it wears me out none the less). A major rainstorm had come through in the morning (we're currently in the little rainy season, the real rainy season is coming in the summer months) so the roads were all muddy. I decided to put on my rain boots and head to the market by myself, wondering if I would regret the decision to go alone. My home is on one end of town and the market is on the other, it takes only about 10 minutes to walk from end to end. As I get close to the market I notice that a man struggling with his mental health is clearing the way for me - he is walking ahead of me, silently but with exaggerated gestures, pointing out anything hazardous in the road ahead of us, like bigger rocks, horse carts or animals walking in the road, looking back to be sure I'm following behind without difficulty. His body language was so animated. It seemed like in his mind I was some kind of royalty. It was a very unique and unexpected experience. (Side note: there are no services for mental illness or chemical dependency here as far as I am aware, there is a need but as a developing country it's not yet a priority). Anyway, I make it to the market just fine except that the road is muddy and slick. Well that was nothing compared to the state of the market itself. The entire market is mud and puddles. If I hadn't been wearing my rain boots I would have had mud up to my ankles. Everyone is slipping and sliding and sloshing around. For a moment I thought about turning around and going back home, but then I would have nothing to eat and a person needs to eat. I carefully made my way to the part of the market where the produce is and start looking around for what looks good. It's really fun to ask for the price in the local language and see a smile come over the seller's face, you can tell they are slightly stunned and thereby delayed in responded. I got a bit of attention but nothing too overwhelming. I was surprised that many of the women who were startled to see a Ferenji would look at my feet to see my footwear and then give me an approving 'gobez' (smart/clever). I feel like I gained some serious street cred! I bought tomatoes, onions, carrots, potatoes and a mango. I didn't see any avocados so I asked a man if there were any at the market that day and he said no. A little boy who was nearby overheard and said he knew where the avocados were and he could show me. (One little boy turns into five little boys, all of his friends needed to help too). He was very eager to help me out, it was really sweet. When I got home I was anxious to show my neighbor what I bought to make sure I got a fair price. Sometimes there is Habesha price - the price for Ethiopians, and Ferenji price - the price for foreigners. If I were here as a tourist it wouldn't be a big deal to be charged Ferenji price, but since I am here as a volunteer and I consider this my home for the next two years it would feel different. My community didn't let me down! I bought from four different sellers and no one overcharged me. It made me feel very proud to be placed in this community. Even though I was hesitant to go by myself, I feel like the experience accelerated my integration into the community because more people saw me out doing a common activity in the local language. And because it was a good experience overall, it helped me feel more at home here.

First few days at site

Exchanging greetings is an important part of Ethiopian culture. All greetings come with at least a hand shake and usually also a shoulder bump. Sometimes a double shoulder bump. As you shake hands you pull each other in to bump shoulders. All of this while saying some variation of Akkam? Naga? Fayaa? (In Oromifa: how are you, do you have peace, do you have health?) So when you meet a young man headed towards you walking down the street with a machete in his hand, what do you do? You greet each other and bump shoulders of course. That machete? No matter. I had to chuckle to myself - yet another 'did that just happen?' moment. 

I have been spending most of my days at the health center, getting to know the staff and just generally making my presence known. I am anxious to meet more people around town, like the teachers and staff at the schools, and people from the nearby villages where the health posts are located - but I have to wait until someone is available to go with me to introduce me and explain why I'm here. With my level of language skills I could sort of do those things by myself but it's valuable to have a respected worker from the health center vouch for me. After a few long, slow days at the HC, I felt invigorated after I was able to pay a visit to one of the neighboring villages. The health post there was hosting a celebration for the community because the village had successfully built enough latrines for the population. I had absolutely no idea what I was in for, I'm learning that I just have to be ready for anything. The head of all the health services in my area showed up and I rode with him to the village. Luckily I had met him at his office located in the main town when I came for site visit last month, so I knew who he was and that he was a VIP. I thought to myself, thank god I am dressed professionally and conservatively enough. It was a beautiful drive out to the village, only 10km away and nestled in the mountains. When we arrived there were about 30-40 men (someday when I have a better understanding of things maybe I'll write about gender roles) seated in front of the health post, waiting on our arrival for the presentation to begin. When I saw this I thought I would just hang back and observe, stay out of the way. Well, no. I was made to sit at the head table with the VIPs. We're on a slightly higher level, facing the audience. All eyes are on me. I can imagine their thought bubbles - who is this lady? where did she come from? what is she doing here? While I'm thinking to myself (again), thank god I am dressed professionally and conservatively enough. I have no choice but to sit there and smile and try to make a good first impression. Thankfully the health admin head introduced me and explained why I was there and that I would be coming back to work with them in the future. While I felt incredibly out of place sitting at the VIP table, it was comforting and validating to be introduced to the community in that way. It made me feel valued and appreciated. Students from the local school marched in singing a song about sanitation and hygiene, some students performed a drama to educate the audience on the importance of institutional delivery (going to the health center to give birth rather than delivering at home), a particularly bright young woman presented a poem about sanitation and hygiene and finally certificates were handed out. There was food and coffee afterwards, everyone was really impressed that I was eating traditional Ethiopian food like marqa (porridge - sometimes served with milk, this time it came with honey - delicious) and braatto (flour and butter pressed together into a bar, there is nothing I can compare it to). Seriously it was a topic of conversation for days at the health center - "when you went to the celebration what did you eat? (even though they already knew the answer) really you ate that? wow!" I am told that another one of the villages will be having a similar celebration soon and I look forward to attending if I can. It's exciting to get to know the communities I'll be working with for the next two years. 

Officially a PCV

After 3 months of training, (in Addis and our community based training sites) 60 of us, split between health and environment sectors, are now officially Peace Corps Volunteers in Ethiopia. Time has gone fast and yet it feels like I've been here for years already. By the end of training I managed to reach a language proficiency of 'intermediate - mid' which was the goal set by Peace Corps. Success! Now I need to maintain what I learned and build on it everyday. Our swearing-in ceremony was a few days ago. It was in the garden at the US Embassy in Addis, a very beautiful setting. It was a nice event and fun to celebrate with my friends. 

The day after swearing-in we parted ways with our fellow trainees and moved to our sites to start our two years of service. After spending so much time together it's sad to say goodbye! Of course we can visit each other but traveling around this country is not the easiest of tasks. We will be reunited for follow up training events about every 3-6 months. There were 5 of us that were able to travel together because our sites are in the same general vicinity. 

I made it to my site in record time. Our bus left on time early in the morning so our 8 hr bus ride got me into my hub town in the middle of the afternoon. Early enough so I could try to catch a bus to my site that same day. I didn't know if there would be a bus or not, so while I wanted to sleep in my own bed at site I kept in mind that I might have to stay at a hotel. When I had travelled to site the first time, my counterpart introduced me to a woman who runs a suk near the bus stop. She was very kind, I bought some bananas from her and she told me to come again next time I was in town. So this time I went straight there to inquire about the bus situation because I knew she would be helpful if I needed it. There were people waiting for buses inside her suk, most notably a distinguished older Muslim man. I recognized him but rather than just vaguely remembering his face from site visit last month, it felt more like I knew him from sometime before in my life. He was very interested to learn about me and asked a lot of questions but talked so fast that I couldn't really respond to him. Luckily there was someone who spoke English & Oromifa who could fill in the blanks for both of us. It turns out a lot of the people waiting at the suk were waiting for the same bus as me. It was fun to tell them that I was going to live in their town for the next two years, that from this point forward we are now neighbors. Before the older man left he said something about 'when we go, she needs to go ahead of us' and it was explained to me that it is a part of their culture to show respect to their guests and I am a guest in their community so they should treat me accordingly. It is true, during my time here I have definitely felt the kindness and generosity that Ethiopians extend to their guests. But I didn't know exactly what he meant - I just thought to myself, 'that's nice'. It was such a relief to be waiting for the bus with these helpful people and not feel alone. They definitely stepped up and made sure I got where I needed to be. When the bus came it was already almost full but there were a handful of us who were queued up to get on. Actually there are no lines here, it's a blob of us, there's some pushing, I guess because people feel anxious that they might not get on. It doesn't make sense to me because in my experience everyone manages to get on no matter how full the bus is. I'm at the back of the blob because I'm not comfortable with the pushing yet and to be honest I'm just not very good at it. A young man in front of me turned around and said 'come on' so I felt like at the very least he would make sure I got on the bus. As we're waiting for the doors to open, I can sense the tension of our blob building, the pushing continues, things are being said that I don't understand, but I'm cool as a cucumber at the back of the blob just waiting for it all to be over. Then something strange happened. The door of the bus opens, people are excited to get on, but we're kept waiting, the bus attendant is blocking the doorway giving some instructions to our blob, I can't hear or understand what's going on - all of the sudden the pushing stops, the crowd parts down the middle like the parting of the Red Sea and I am ushered on to the bus first. Um, what's happening? Is this really happening? And then I remembered the older man at the suk. When the bus arrived he had instructed them to treat me as a guest and make sure I got on first. I didn't see him on the bus but the next time I see him in town I will be thanking him profusely! What a lovely way to be welcomed into my new community. 

It feels good to be getting settled into my new home. I'm anxious to buy the things that I need to make my room (I have one really big room) feel comfortable and functional. The first task was to clean - I needed my room to feel clean in order to really make it my home. The cement floor was very dusty after sitting empty for the past month and there were several spiders that had moved in. The 5yo neighbor boy helped me with spider patrol. (Side note: I have been pleasantly surprised that I haven't encountered too many critters so far. I've squashed a few decent sized spiders but nothing to go bananas over yet. I've seen photos of monstrous ones from fellow trainees so I know they're out there but thankfully we've not yet crossed paths. I hear bats every evening but they seem busy doing what they're supposed to be doing, as long as they stay outside we're cool. And of course there are mice but they don't really bother me - if they come in my room it will be a different story. I am most thankful for my mosquito net mostly as protection from any other critter that might try to visit during the night. I've very rarely had a mosquito bite but I'm definitely not interested in getting any mosquito borne illness. I am most annoyed by the flies. Freaking. Flies. Gross.) Anyway, the landlady had lent me a broom of sorts and while it was effective, there was just so much dust that it would create a cloud and it didn't leave me feeling like my room was actually very clean. She saw me struggling to sweep and like every other Ethiopian woman I've encountered while I've been here, she knew what needed to be done and stepped in take care of it. She told me to wait while she cleared out the room and brought in water and rags to mop the floor. Everything is done so expertly and swiftly that there's nothing for me to do except stand by and watch. I felt like a child but it was quite nice when she was done - it was just what the room needed.

Home sweet home

I definitely didn't expect to be treated so overwhelmingly with kindness, generosity and respect when I signed up for this experience. There are still struggles, difficulties, and misunderstandings, but the good far outweighs the bad. 

Love from Ethiopia!