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! 

Super Heroes

I think my admiration and appreciation for the women of Ethiopia is obvious. I really enjoy the time I get to spend with other women - when women are alone together here we can laugh and joke freely - there is a feeling of freedom and it's very relaxed. If it's a mixed gender space it can still be fun and playful but in my experience so far, it feels more censored and contained and the women defer to the men. Gender roles are very clearly defined here. As an outsider I think I can get away with saying things that local women wouldn't be able to say. For example, a joke I made the other evening - I was sitting in the kitchen with the women of the house chatting when my host father came home, came into the kitchen and playfully asked in Oromifa if I was going to make buna (which he likes to ask me nearly everyday). I playfully responded in Oromifa with 'I'm sorry, I don't understand.' Everyone got a kick out of it because they knew I understood but was pretending I didn't to avoid having to make buna. (I only felt comfortable to make a joke because I have lived with my host family for awhile, we are comfortable with each other and my host father likes to laugh with me.) Since then I have heard the story recounted a number of times by my host mother & sisters to other women always resulting in a good laugh. I'm glad it was well received and that I can give them something to laugh about! I'm sure I've been a source of humor for them in more ways than I even know.

The women of the house have taken great care of me and taught me so much. They are like superheroes, they can do it all. The other day it was raining, windy and muddy. The animals go out for grazing during the day, they always go out in the same general direction but it's open grazing so they are not contained in any way. They return home around sundown but this day the mule didn't return. So my host mother has to go out in the dark and the cold, pouring rain to search for the missing mule. She didn't waste any time - she put on her lace-up shoes, her heavy scarf and seemed undeterred and unafraid. This after a full day of preparing every meal from scratch for everyone in the household, washing dishes and clothes by hand, making buna from scratch, attending to anyone who happens to stop by the house during the day (there are always people who drop by), and milking the cow. They told me they were afraid that the mule may have gotten stuck in the mud somewhere but I suspect they were also afraid for their mother to go out in the dark and the rain. No one goes out in the rain unless they have to, the mud is no joke - it's very slippery. But in true superhero form she found the mule, brought him back home like it was no big deal and then continued with business as usual. 

My host father is also admirable. He seems to be a savvy business man, he has solid connections in the community and surrounding area, has a charming personality and a very firm handshake. He always dresses sharply even when he's working around the compound. He is usually gone all day doing business around town or traveling to other towns. One day he took me by surprise. For a reason unclear to me someone had brought their herd of sheep into our yard. One of the sheep had an injured leg and had trouble walking. The herd was sent out to graze while the injured sheep was left behind. He was quite distressed to have lost his friends and was very vocal about it. (Side note: I love to hear the animals communicate with each other, they have distinct voices and they know who their posse is.) He tried to find his way out of the compound a few times to reunite with his friends even with his broken leg. He was so sad and pathetic looking, as it was one of his back legs that was hurt so sometimes it would give out and he would just plop down on his butt. I was working in my room when I happened to look out as my host father and two other men who were hired to do work in the yard were attending to the injured sheep - they were all gathered around cleaning and massaging his hurt leg, my host father making sure they were doing it right, while the sheep laid there very calmly and seemed to appreciate their efforts. I think they really helped him feel better because from that point forward he stopped his excessive calling and decided to just relax in the yard rather than escape. Later on in the afternoon a heavy rain came through; as we all ran around gathering the almost dry clothes off the clothes line, I see my host father swiftly pick up the injured sheep by the fur on his back and stand him up next to the house so he could be out of the rain. It was so sweet. The animals here work very hard and some are treated poorly so to see these acts of kindness towards this one little sheep really struck me.

The pathetic little sheep and a chicken, waiting for the rain to pass. 

Ethiopian healthcare system as I understand it...

Ethiopia has a very well organized healthcare system. There are health centers and health posts - health centers are in the bigger towns and serve a certain catchment area. The health posts are in smaller villages within that catchment area. For example, at my future site there is a health center because it is the biggest town in its area and it serves 4 other smaller villages that each have health posts. The health center is where everyone in the catchment area comes when they are sick or if they need antenatal, delivery and postnatal care. (Pregnant women are encouraged to travel to their local health center for delivery rather than delivering at home, in an effort to improve maternal and infant mortality.) So the health center is staffed with nurses, midwives, a laboratory, a pharmacist, a cashier, they have a room for health records/registration, and someone doing health information management. Paperwork, record keeping, data collection and reporting is a big deal. (So it turns out there is no escaping it!) People pay for the care/treatment they receive when they receive it with the exception of perinatal care, family planning, vaccinations, etc; those services are free/covered by the govt. The health posts provide some treatment but they are more focused on illness prevention and health promotion. Each health post is ideally staffed with two health extension workers. HEW's complete some health training beyond high school and they are charged with making home visits to provide health teaching and outreach to their communities. So let's say it's a village of just 500 - that's still a lot of ground for 1 or 2 workers to cover! They have very nice educational materials (provided by the govt with international support) that cover a range of topics - nutrition, family planning, sanitation, hygiene, etc. There are families that readily adopt the HEW's health information and begin to practice health promoting behaviors so they become 'model families' - these model families are expected to share their knowledge and have a positive influence on their community as well. Each model family (they are actually part of what's called the 'health development army') is assigned 5 other families. It's a very organized, strategic approach for disseminating health information and encouraging behavior change in the community. 

There are private clinics in the bigger towns as well, so people can pay to go there when they are sick if they want. I presume it's more expensive. And of course there are hospitals in the bigger towns. Anything that the health center can't manage they will refer to the next level of care. 

Although I am a nurse, my role here is not to provide clinical care. There are plenty of qualified individuals who work at the health center and health posts - who know their community, are respected by their community, and will continue to serve their community long after my two years are up. My role is to support the work they are already doing, to assess the needs of the community and motivate the health center and health post staff to work with me on projects targeting the needs identified. I don't know yet what those projects will be! But it is my intention that they be relevant and of value to the community, that they have a long term vision and are sustainable, and that everyone has a voice and is part of the process. My first several months at site will be spent integrating into the community and completing a 'community needs assessment'. When I have enough information to start making plans I'm sure there will be a blog post about it!

This week we practiced building a pit latrine/squat toilet/mana fincanii/shint bet

It started out as just a hole in the ground, here it is almost finished - still needs a roof and wall covering of course. 

Proof that I contributed to the cause!

Our crew! I've spent a lot of time with these guys during training - I'll miss them when I move to site. 

Love from Ethiopia!

It's the little things

I can't manage to change it on the 'contact' page of this blog, but this is my address going forward. I can still receive mail at the Addis PO Box - but only if I know something has been sent there so then I know to go and pick it up when I happen to be in Addis. 

It's the little things... Like when I'm really looking forward to bathing and we have water! (We always have enough saved for drinking, cooking and hand washing but sometimes have to wait for the water to return before washing clothes etc.) Or the feeling when I first wake up in the morning and reach to turn on the light switch and it works! It's so nice to not have to get ready by flashlight. You never know when the electricity is going to be out. Luckily it's on more often than off. If it is the evening and the electricity returns you can hear the neighborhood give a collective cheer as their lights turn back on. A reminder that we are all in this together! 

One of my favorite meals so far was a heaping plate of green beans with carrots and cabbage with potatoes (atop the mandatory biddeena, of course). This country knows how to do vegetables right. 

And the not so little things... I have been feeling the love with the cards and packages I've received! I know it takes time, effort and hard earned money to send something across the globe to little old me. Your generosity, thoughtfulness and support is remarkable. And the emails, texts and phone calls (when I am able to get them) really keep me going especially when I'm having a "what am I doing here?" kind of day. How did I get so lucky to have such a great group of people in my life? I can feel the love from 8,000 miles away. Thanks a million! 

What I've been doing these past few months... During pre-service training our days are full - we are in "class" from 8 to 5:30 Monday thru Friday and Saturday mornings. Most of our time is spent in language and health classes. Health topics include: the Ethiopian healthcare system, nutrition, maternal child health, family planning, HIV/AIDS, malaria, behavior change communication, neglected tropical diseases (trachoma, schistosomiasis, soil transmitted helminths, onchocerciasis, lymphatic filariasis, podoconiosis, leishmaniasis & Guinea worm) & WASH (water, sanitation & hygiene). A few weeks ago I presented a brief health lesson to a 9th grade class at the secondary school here in town. And this week in small groups we hosted a community education event where we invited members of the community to learn about nutrition. Both went surprisingly well. Permagardening is another thing we learned about and practiced doing. I love the concept and find it interesting that I learned a lot about permagardening and saw it in action when I went to Cuba and now here I am potentially teaching it in Ethiopia. Who knew. 

Our classroom for health. 

Working on our permagarden. 

Still no access to email or most of the Internet for now. If/when it returns you'll know because I'll finally respond and also be able to make phone calls!

Love from Ethiopia!  

Uncomfortable bus rides, even more uncomfortable bus rides & horse carts

After a week of traveling and spending a few days at my future site (near Bale Mountains National Park), I'm coming back to training with a new perspective. Inchini feels like home now. Things that used to feel difficult or stressful here are now easy and no big deal. It was so nice to be welcomed back to town, I was really happy to see my host family and return to the comforts of 'home'. I know my site will eventually feel like this too, it will just take time. 

Traveling to and from site is no small feat. From Addis it's an 8 hour bus ride to the main town (including a 1/2 hour stop for lunch & bathroom break) and then an hour long bus ride to my rural village. The first bus ride is not that bad except it's 8 hours, with your bag on your lap, you're touching your neighbor and it's hot - in general, people are only willing to open the windows briefly so there is very little air circulation. The second bus ride leaves more to be desired. It's a very bumpy dirt road, the bus is jam packed so you have to push and squeeze yourself onto the bus, this time you are up close and personal with multiple neighbors while holding your bags. It turns out a person doesn't really need that much personal space. 

I ended up drinking so much buna during my site visit. In Inchini I had an established routine of one little cup everyday after lunch. But sharing buna together is an important part of building relationships so it's actually something I *have* to do. My second night of site visit I had just locked my door to go to bed when the landlady knocks on the door with a cup of buna with milk for me. No more than 2 minutes later here come the neighbor kids, their mother had sent them over with a cup of buna and some snacks! Of course I had to drink that cup too. While I would rather not drink any coffee before bed I had resigned to the fact that I would be drinking two cups, oh well. And this is on top of two cups earlier in the day - it would have been three but thank goodness I declined the first one offered after lunch. Then the landlady returns with the kettle of buna and milk and while I thought I was declining another cup it turns out the language barrier was in full effect because I ended up with a third cup of coffee. It was delicious but I don't want to make it a habit! Ethiopians are extremely generous. 

When it was time to return to Addis, I of course had to take the bus from my village to the neighboring main town where I would stay overnight and catch the 8 hr bus ride the next day. My counterpart and a nurse from the health center were also traveling to the neighboring town (to visit their families for the weekend) so we were going to catch the bus together. I was anxious to get going because I would be meeting some fellow trainees in the neighboring town and just wanted to get going on my journey. There was supposed to be a bus but if there aren't enough people then the bus won't go. So, there's no bus. Luckily my counterpart has a plan B. We can take a horse cart (garii) to the next closest village (5 km away) and maybe catch a bus from there. Maybe? 50-50 chance, he says. So we summon a horse cart. Horse carts are common in rural areas for transporting people and goods. It's literally a horse pulling a cart. So the three of us climb aboard with our belongings. There is room for 3 people to sit, the 'driver' has to sort of walk/jog alongside until the horse picks up speed and then he can sit on the edge of the cart/wheel well. I felt bad for the horse - it seemed like we were a heavy load. The horses and donkeys work very hard here. That garii ride is one I think I will not forget. It's the end of the day, at the end of a stressful week, we're riding across the Ethiopian countryside, mountains in the distance, and I'm sitting in the middle of a very spirited discussion between my future colleagues about the respective economies of Ethiopia and America. Is this real? How did I end up here? Sometimes I have to pinch myself. Shortly after we arrived in the next village there was a bus to take us to town, thankfully. But it was the fullest bus and most uncomfortable ride yet. I was just happy to be going where I needed to be. 

My first garii ride - from my new house to the health center. He just happened to be outside as we were leaving our compound and offered us a ride. This is my little town!

And here I am on a mule the day after I returned to Inchini. It was my host mother's idea and she would not take no for an answer. My favorite part of this picture is her laughing hysterically!

I am not able to access much online for now, the best way to reach me for the time being is WhatsApp.

Love from Ethiopia!