The strange and the ordinary

I have a pretty sturdy plastic tarp that is nailed along all of the walls to act as the ceiling of my room (standard procedure). The actual roof of my home is corrugated metal in an inverted V shape. There's a gap of a few feet between my tarp ceiling and the metal roof above it. I'm sure there's a plethora of spiders and bugs that live in that space but let's not think about that. Well late one afternoon as I was sitting in my room I had another visitor in that space. Out of nowhere I hear some critter fall or jump onto the tarp and I can hear and see the impression of its feet pressing down on the tarp as it moves around. I can see it walking around in my ceiling! I'm wondering if it's going to break through the tarp and then I'm going to have to deal with whatever it is being in my room with me. At first I thought it was a bird that had flown in between the space of the wall and the roof. But then I can see that there is the weight of four little feet pushing down as it walks around. It's walking this way and that way like no big deal all the while I'm thinking if this tarp breaks all sorts of bugs and dust and dirt is going to fall in and gross me out. I tried making some noises to encourage it to move along, you know find his way out, but that made no difference. It turns out it was a cat! I figured it out because he pounced on something, like cats do, and right after that he jumped out. I was relieved that it was gone and that it wasn't a giant rat or something. I hope he doesn't make it a habit. 

The neighbor boy has been calling me Angelo. I haven't bothered to correct him because he always has a smile for me and the way he says it he kinda draws out the 'o' so it sounds kinda cute. His mother will send him over to invite me to drink coffee. He comes to my door, pops his head in with a smile on his face and says "Angelooo, buna dhugi!" It's darling. But only when he does it. I'm still Angela to the rest of you! 

A horse cart and the 'backyard' of my town. 

There is a rose bush that has been blooming steadily lately near my front door. It's beautiful, the first time I saw it blooming it took my breath away. A rose! A random act of beauty! How bold! And the roses are so fragrant, really what roses are supposed to smell like, times ten. Whenever they catch my attention I stop to smell them. One day I was walking back to my room after drinking coffee with the other women in the compound when I stopped to smell the rose. The women said, incredulously, "Angela, why are you smelling the flower?!" Um, because it smells good! Really, smell it! It's beautiful! I was only able to convince the neighbor girl to smell the roses with me. She agreed it was nice but wasn't nearly as captivated as me. Oh well.

Sorry this picture isn't scratch and sniff. 

I am also a perplexing creature because I didn't buy three kilos of sugar when I had the chance. Apparently one of the suks in town gets sugar every once and while and divides it into three kilo bags. It's a good price and people are excited because it's a good amount and I guess sugar isn't readily available in this area. In general, Ethiopians love their sugar - buna and shay (tea) always come with a hefty dose of sugar. I'll drink it however it's served but I'm not really in to adding sugar to things myself. Dessert isn't a thing here so I guess people get their sugar fix in their beverages. Almost every woman I know has asked me if I bought the three kilos of sugar and when I tell them 'no', they just look at me in disbelief. From their point of view a person needs to buy sugar and I think they want to be sure that I have what I need, but I'm like what am I going to do with three kilos of sugar?! If I had an oven and I could bake brownies and cookies and pies, than sure. It's kinda difficult to explain that I don't want or need sugar, that I enjoy my tea without adding sugar. At best I've gotten confused looks and non-convincing "okay's". I would rather eat chocolate as my source of sugar! 

It can get pretty chilly in my town. Some nights it's rather cold and there have been a few rainy days where it has stayed cold all day. I have a nice pair of really cozy socks that have been a lifesaver. I wear them to bed every night. I think I learned at one point that sleeping in a cold room adds a few years to a person's life. So I've got that going for me. I brought a pair of slippers which was wise, the floor in my room is always cold. On the cold rainy days I've worn my cozy socks and slippers together. In other areas of Ethiopia it's much hotter, I guess I would prefer being cold every now and again rather than hot and sweaty everyday. 

And finally, after washing two full size bedsheets by hand I will never complain about doing the laundry again when it means using a washing machine. Perspective. 

A beautiful sunny sky near the health center. 

Love from Ethiopia! 

I'll be fat soon, thanks to the landlady

Marqaa is a special kind of porridge made from barley (most people in my area are farmers and they primarily grow wheat (qamadii) and barley (garbuu)). It's usually made for special occasions or celebrations (or when you're just sitting in your room working on your 'Community Needs Assessment' the landlady might bring some over). It's kind of gelatinous with a little divot made in the middle to hold milk (annan), butter (dhadha) or honey (damma) for dipping the marqaa into. I had it once before with honey in the middle, tasty. My landlady brought me a bowl of it with melted butter in the middle to which she added a spoonful of berbere. The butter here is the real deal, straight from the source, it has a strong flavor so it was a very rich dish. Berbere is a red chili powder commonly used here, like, in everything! It's made by drying red chili peppers in the sun and grinding it with other herbs and spices that have also been sun dried. When I saw my neighbor making her batch in preparation for Fasika (Easter) it included rosemary and cinnamon among other things I didn't recognize. She offered to give me some but I was already given a bag by my host mother as I was packing up to leave their house - and the amount she gave me is more than I'll probably use in 2 years! Additionally, I tried to return the little cup of extra berbere that you see in the picture but the landlady wouldn't accept it, she told me to keep it and use it when I'm cooking because it's good for my health. I'm not really in to spicy foods but I add a touch here and there because why not. 

This is what my landlady brought me around lunchtime one day. To be fair, the electricity was out and she knows I only have an electric stove so I think she wanted to be sure I didn't starve. I'm in no danger of starving. Even without electricity I managed to have a healthy breakfast of a banana with cold oatmeal, complete with some nuts from a care package. The longest the electricity has been out is two days and that time I did start to get a little desperate. On day two I was set on buying a charcoal stove but then the electricity returned so I never got around to it. Anyway, what you see pictured is two kinds of bread (dabo), a cup of coffee with milk (buna fi annan), and what looks like chocolate ice cream or peanut butter ice cream or cafe mocha ice cream (I'm dreaming of ice cream!) is actually braatto. Braatto is barley flour mixed with butter, definitely not ice cream, but surprisingly pretty tasty if you don't think about the fact that you're eating straight up butter and flour. It's a special treat and it truly is good in small doses. One of the pieces of bread is a chewy variety with butter and berbere slathered on top and the other is more dry and crumbly, not bad with peanut butter, jam or Nutella. Have I mentioned that my landlady is one of the nicest people on the planet? 

Leading up to Fasika, orthodox Christians had been fasting for about two months, meaning no animal products - no meat, eggs, milk, butter, etc. On Fasika they broke the fast and prepared and shared many meaty dishes. I was out of town for the weekend so I missed the slaughter and feast of two chickens and an ox - thank goodness, I do not have the stomach for that! While I'm not interested in eating meat, the landlord's family has a few cows so I do enjoy the fresh milk and butter now that fasting is over. 

A particularly vocal rooster who I thought had been eaten, a casualty of Fasika, because I hadn't seen or more accurately heard him all week. But alas, he was back this morning, guess he was just on vacation. If we're being honest, you do cockadoodle too much.

Love from Ethiopia!