One Revolution Around the Sun - Reflections on the past year in Ethiopia

What a year it's been! In some ways it feels like the longest year of my life and in some ways it has passed in a flash. A year ago I was saying a tearful 'see ya later' to my stateside family and friends, packing up and moving out of my apartment, and downsizing to two suitcases. I was full of anticipation, no clue what was really in store for me, but absolutely certain I was on the right path. I was following my heart. And the heart is always right. That's not to say I wasn't afraid, I was leaving behind my comfortable life and taking a big leap into the unknown. Of course I felt fear and anxiety. But if there is anything I've learned this past year it's that we have very little to be afraid of and if we're willing to push past our fear the rewards can be immense. You're just gonna have to take my word for it. It hasn't all been easy, there have been some downright miserable moments. Of course that's life anywhere. We carry on. 

This year has taught me the art of sitting still. Really, it is an art. "You cannot force a flower to blossom. It will blossom, but on its own time." (Victor Cauper Gonzales) As painful as it was sometimes, I'm grateful for the challenge of adjusting to a slower pace as it gave me more practice being present with what is and seeking contentment and acceptance in difficult situations. 

I've learned about letting go of certainty - I thought I was a 'go with the flow' kinda person before; maybe I am by American standards but not Ethiopian.

And this experience has reaffirmed for me the value of relationships. If I've accomplished anything here in this past year it's only through the relationships I've built. Cultural exchange is the foundation of Peace Corps service and this past year has seen a lot of it. I have gained so much just by showing up, just by being present, showing an interest and a willingness to learn from others. I've gained new friends and family and we've made a difference in each other's lives. Unfortunately that's not something that can be measured but something that I believe is quite powerful in the grand scheme of things. And I've developed a greater appreciation for all the kind souls, the inspiring, good people back home who I miss dearly. Your example makes me want to do better, to strive to be the best version of myself. 

There is so much that I can't put into words regarding the experiences of this past year but I can say it has helped me to see things with new eyes and has changed me for the better. 

It is a blessing to experience this beautiful country, to be a citizen of this beautiful world, and share it with some very beautiful people. 

"Making a decision is only the beginning of things. When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision." -Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Hope

I was blessed to catch this on a podcast recently, it feels so right. 

Hope

- Victoria Safford

Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope. 

Not the prudent gates of optimism which are somewhat narrower,

nor the stalwart, boring gates of common sense,

nor the strident gates of self-righteousness which creak on shrill and angry hinges,

nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of 'everything is gonna be alright'. 

But a very different, sometimes very lonely place. 

The place of truth telling,

about your own soul first of all and its condition. 

The place of resistance and defiance.

The piece of ground from which you see the world,

both as it is,

and as it could be. 

As it might be,

as it will be. 

The place from which you glimpse not only struggle but joy in the struggle. 

And we stand there, 

all of us, 

beckoning and calling,

telling people what we are seeing,

asking people what they see.

It's been somewhat difficult to 'see the joy' as of late, but it's certainly there in the relationships I've built with the people I've come to love here. I am blessed beyond measure by the love, support and endless kindness of those near and far - thank you times a million! 

Daily living, updated - new and improved!

I've been in country for 9 months now, living on my own for 6 months. I'd say I've pretty well adjusted to the pace and lifestyle here. I live in harmony with the daddy-long-legs and if there's ever one a little too close for comfort I just pick him up by one of his long legs and send him on his way outside with my bare hands. Never would have imagined I'd be capable of that. I'm still not friends with the bigger, hairier spiders, they must die, preferably with one quick wallop from my shoe. And I don't think I'll ever get totally used to the long days when the phone network, electricity, and water are all absent - I've lived too many years with those things to give them up easily! If one or two of them is missing I don't feel too bad, in true Minnesotan fashion I say to myself 'things could be worse.' But when all three are gone it is at it's worst! Maybe sometime in the next 18 months I will achieve enlightenment and I won't let these external forces have power over my mood, but I'm not there yet. My quality of life has drastically improved since my sisters sent me the gift of a portable shower/shower in a bag. When there's enough water I fill it up with water that I've heated on the stove, hang it up in my 'bathroom' and voila! I'm not exaggerating when I say that it's been life changing! I'm lucky to have a space to use it, I have a pretty nice bathroom setup compared to other volunteers. And life has been better when the electricity is out since I bought a kerosene stove. A few months ago I gave in and bought a traditional charcoal stove (mandija) after the electricity had been out for a number of days. They are difficult to light and painfully slow to cook with. I tried not to let it defeat me but truly some of my lowest moments so far were when I was dealing with that god forsaken thing! I probably only used it a total of five times when one of my coworkers took pity on me and set up an arrangement where she would buy the mandija from me (she didn't have one and wanted one) and I would buy a kerosene stove from another coworker (she didn't use it because she preferred her mandija). So it worked out for everyone. The only drawback with kerosene is that it smells bad and there's a really hot open flame to manage but I haven't started myself or anything else on fire yet so I think I'm doing good. Remarkably, I am not yet sick of potatoes and carrots, they've been the staple of my diet because they are in ample supply in this area. Lucky for me I love potatoes and grew up eating them regularly so I don't mind eating them everyday, it reminds me of home! Today I returned from the market with my bag full of potatoes (10 birr), carrots (5 birr), onions (10 birr) and tomatoes (10 birr) for a grand total of 35 birr which works out to be a little more than $1.50 in US dollars. And it's more than I'll be able to finish in a week. Our market also has cabbage, collard greens, peppers (like jalapeños), avocados, bananas and mangos but that's it in the way of fresh produce. I have more available at my market than some of my friends in other regions do, so I'm not complaining. I mix things up by cooking my veggies with rice (ruz), pasta, eggs (killee), beans (bekela), lentils (miser), split peas (ater), tofu, or shiro (chickpea flour). I've started drinking tea more regularly and yes, I've taken to adding sugar, of course! When the landlady returned from the market today she invited me over for honey - straight up, in a cup, with a spoon. It was the real deal, as fresh as it gets, complete with pieces of honeycomb and bees floating in it. That was a new experience! And then we had coffee with milk because one of the cows had a calf two weeks ago (he's so cute!) so there's a supply of milk - from the cow 15 feet away - doesn't get more 'local' than that. Everyone is getting ready for Meskerem, Ethiopian New Year, which is next week. It will be 2009! I knew the holiday was coming but it didn't dawn on me that people were making preparations until I saw that the neighbor brought home a rooster from the market. Her son, Murtesa, was very sweetly petting him while holding a little cup of water for the rooster to drink out of. I was hoping to catch a picture of this adorable moment between a boy and his new rooster but as soon as the camera comes out it inevitably turns into 'Glamour Shots'. So here they are posing with their new friend. But let's be real, the new friend's days are numbered. 

My neighbor, Wasilee

And her brother, Murtesa, hugging a rooster that I'm pretty sure has no interest in being hugged!

The landlady was teasing me about why I didn't buy a rooster and jokingly suggesting that next week I will buy one. As if I know the first thing about tending to a rooster! And if anyone tried to eat my rooster they would be in big trouble! The landlady and her younger sister who has been visiting have started the process of making farso (homemade beer) for the holiday. They invited me to watch and learn. I might actually drink the stuff now that I know how much effort goes into making it. The women here work so hard, I swear their work is never done.

As far as my work is concerned, I continue to go to the health center everyday and while most days are still long and slow, I can see that some things are starting to come together and I think my work will be picking up soon. I had my doubts but now I think we can say 'slowly but surely'. The staff at the health center have a weekly coffee ceremony every Tuesday, there is a rotating schedule of who is assigned to prepare the buna to make it fair. It's like a team meeting of sorts, a chance for the whole staff to connect and socialize. So this week it's me with my coworker (who also happens to be my new neighbor), Ganet, who are responsible! It's a little nerve wracking because it involves serving buna to about 15 people while they all sit around watching the preparations from start to finish. For the typical Ethiopian woman it's no big deal because they do this everyday, but not me! And of course there will be lots of commentary about whether the American can do it properly or not. It's all in good fun and I'll be a good sport about it but I'm glad that it will be another month and a half before it's our turn again! 

Love from Ethiopia!

To bear witness

There is a lot that I don't understand. Things that I'll never be able to truly understand. But I won't underestimate the value of bearing witness. I see you. I see your experiences. I see what you are dealing with. I see your struggles. I see your frustrations. I see your brilliance and how if people would just get out of your way there's nothing you couldn't do. I can only imagine how it must weaken one's spirit - all this smoke in all these mirrors. But I see you. I will not look away. I will not run away. I will not pretend to have the answers. I believe your smile is so bright because although you've been through the mud and the muck, and you're sure to go through it again, you refuse to be held captive by it. The way your face glows is an act of defiance. To see and be seen is a gift. I will not underestimate the value of truly being seen, of truly being heard. I am blessed to be a witness.

Sunset in the Bale Mountains. 

Camp GLOW

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to join some of my fellow PCVs in leading Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) for students in our area. I was able to bring four students (two girls and two boys) from the secondary school in my village. The school was really helpful with identifying the best students to join me. Other things that one might expect to be easy, like getting permission slips signed, proved to be nearly impossible, sigh! Of course there had to be a few hiccups along the way but all five us managed to be ready to catch the early bus out of our village for the start of camp, miraculous! It's an hour long bus ride to the next big town and then another short bus ride to the next town over. Then finally a major hike through town, across a river and up a hill to get to the school where camp was held. In our village the secondary school is on the far end of town and through the mud so the kids seemed to be unfazed by this adventure. The camp was focused on leadership skills, gender equality, goal setting, and confidence building. Sometimes the camp is held exclusively for girls but I appreciated that we also included boys - it takes all of us to create change. There were about 45 students and 7 of us volunteers. Some of the PCVs were able to bring teachers from their schools, they were super helpful, we couldn't have done it without them. In between lessons there were games and songs, we were always busy. The days were full and exhausting and of course the nights were short on sleep but I think everyone had fun. Camp was supposed to be a week long but had to end after just three days due to circumstances out of our control. But even in a short time I think the students learned a lot and made new friends, and I am thankful for the chance to get to know the students from my community better. They made me proud and I look forward to hopefully working with them on projects in our community.

The early morning walk back to town with our mats at the end of camp!

Love from Ethiopia! 

Today's theme is kindness

Today is market day in my town. Market day is always a little overwhelming, there are more people in town than on any other day and I have to sort of gear up mentally before I leave the house, not knowing how much attention I'm going to get. More than nine times out of ten the attention I get is friendly attention, not bad at all, but it can be overwhelming none the less. I watch the local women as they go about their business, no one paying them any attention but me, and I envy them. Only when I return to the US will I be able to move about my daily life unnoticed. Here I know what it feels like to be a celebrity, except no one is taking pictures and selling them to the tabloids, thank heavens!

I stopped at my neighborhood suk on the way to the market, the one I always go to for things like matches, rice, spaghetti, laundry soap, and mobile cards (phone minutes), etc.  When I first moved to town I got a good vibe from this particular suk and the shop owner so I like to give them my business. While I was buying a kilo of rice and a mobile card, a woman also came up to the suk to buy something. I've never met her before but I greeted her and she asked me if I was going to the market. I said I was and she very kindly said in Afaan Oromo that we should go together. The market is on the other end of town so I was happy to have someone to walk with. I was thinking that once we got to the market we would probably part ways as we might be interested in buying different things. But instead she asked me what I wanted to buy and went with me to be sure I found what I was looking for. She would ask in Amharic if there were other things I needed - she stuck with me until I had everything! After she finished helping me then we parted ways and she went on to buy the things she needed. The kindness of strangers. But now we're not strangers anymore.

A new neighbor moved into our compound a few weeks ago. She also happens to be a new employee at the health center and is a very sweet young woman. Her parents had come to visit from their hometown today and this afternoon she invited me over to meet them. Her father was interested to learn about me and I tried to explain myself as best as I could with my limited language. After only chatting for a few minutes he basically welcomed into their family, saying that I should come and visit them and when I do they would treat me as their daughter. It is that Ethiopian generosity and hospitality that I've come to expect but I think he also recognized that I'm far away from my family and was offering to be a surrogate of sorts. His was a heart cracked wide open, something to aspire to. Again, such kindness.

Makta, the five year old neighbor boy, likes to stop into my room every so often. Sometimes he'll be watching cartoons next door and when he gets bored with that he'll come over or he'll be running around, playing outside and when he needs a break he'll stop in. He comes in, rolls around on the floor a little bit, calls my name as he points out things he finds interesting, before too long he's bored, and he's off to the next thing. Today as he stepped out of my room, he turned right back around and called my name as he handed me the tiniest flower that he had just found amongst the weeds near my doorstep. In a flash he was off playing in the yard, as I'm left standing in the doorway holding this tiny flower, marveling at the sweetness of such a simple gesture. 

What a day - so many acts of kindness. I'm feeling thankful for all the kind people in my life and feeling inspired to spread more kindness too.  

Love from Ethiopia! 

An Ethiopian Wedding

This past weekend I was invited to the wedding celebration of my landlord's niece. The day before the wedding, family members started to arrive from miles around - brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins - there was a lot of activity in our compound which reminded me of my family gatherings and made me miss home. Big families are the norm here and it was just like when my big family gets together back home. 

On the day of the event I didn't really know what to expect but decided, like everything here, that I would just go with the flow. The landlady had checked with me a number of times to make sure that I was planning on going, so I knew she wouldn't leave me behind! When it came time to go, Gosaa, my 12yo buddy basically yelled at me, "Angela! Haa deemnu!" (Let's go!) It was said in a very commanding tone and with urgency even though there isn't actually any urgency about it. (We didn't leave for another 20 minutes.) It made me laugh to myself, thinking of this child yelling at me with such authority; at the same time bringing me comfort, making me feel like part of the family.

I think walking across the village to the party with Gosaa was my favorite part of the whole day. In anticipation of the special occasion the children had been taken shopping for new clothes in the nearby town a few days before. So Gosaa was very proudly sporting a new pair of jeans (which will be too short by the end of the month already, I'm sure), a new jacket (with his hands in the pockets), a pair of his dad's dress shoes (too big), and sunglasses. Even though it's sunny here everyday, no one wears sunglasses. They were purely a fashion statement. He always walks so confidently and deliberately, with a long stride. To see him walking it's like he's all legs. It was a sight to behold. He's one of the coolest kids I know!

Weddings are an opportunity to bring the community together and because it's a rural village the whole community is invited. And the community contributes to the event - supplies such as benches and dishes and party tents are shared. It is a collective effort. Neighbors, family and friends contribute food and beverages, including alcohol, as this was an Orthodox wedding so it is allowed. And everyone gives the gift of money, even if it's a modest amount. 

When I first arrived I was made to eat, of course! There was a large tent set up next to the home of the bride's family - in the middle of the main road through town - apparently not a problem. Many people were seated inside, socializing and enjoying lunch, which consisted of two different kinds of meat stew with injera. I was relieved to see some familiar faces. There were mostly new faces, however, guests from neighboring towns, who were curious about my presence. I felt a bit awkward as my language skills are not at the level where I can really socialize in the local language. It is common to be told "tapadhu" a command which means "play" but in this context means "talk playfully" or "haasa'i" a command which means "chat". It's a nice gesture, it's meant to encourage conversation and be inclusive, but it mostly just leaves me feeling frustrated - of course I would like to chat with you, and I would if I had the language skills, but I don't. And the truth is I've never been the type of person who likes being told what to do! 

I knew there were women working somewhere around the premises and I wanted to be helping them. Somehow my landlord read my mind and came to the rescue! He took me by the hand and walked me into the family's compound to another area where tents were set up with a makeshift kitchen. Of course I wasn't allowed to help but he wanted to show me what was happening behind the scenes. 

A woman tends an enormous pot of meat stew. 

A room full of huge plastic barrels, some containing farso - homemade beer, some containing kenito - a homemade soft drink. Homemade hard liquor, called araki, was also served. 

After the tour my landlord found me a seat between two English speakers. Very kind of him. 

Finally the bride and groom arrived in a small caravan with horns honking. The guests gathered outside to greet them - some women started singing together accompanied by a drum with clapping and ululating and shoulder dancing (eskista). When they would do the shoulder dance it was like the women in the center of the group were having a dance off, competing to see who was the best! They would take it very seriously then eventually erupt into laughter. The men also had their own celebratory song.

The women singing and dancing. 

After this it was time to eat again and socialize some more. As dusk fell I walked home with the neighbor kids. Sometimes the celebrations continue for many more days and in this case they did. There was a sheep that was presented upon the bride and groom's arrival that would be the next day's lunch. I could be wrong but he seemed to know his fate. 

Love from Ethiopia!