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!

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!

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!