"Plant your love and let it grow"

23 January 2012

            A month into my 27 at site and I’m finally beginning to feel comfortable. I’ve got somewhat of a routine now, and I’ve gained enough endurance to make it through the day without an afternoon nap. I’m even getting anxious and ambitious scheming up projects. What a transition! Regardless of how clever my ideas may be without language, integration and understand my efforts are trivial. So instead I am taking baby steps, appreciating the small things, and as a result of such patience I believe I will make bigger strides in the months to come.

The first and most important step is easier said than done:

Saying “YES!”

To coffee with strangers

Meeting and training invitations (even if I can’t understand the language)

Accepting hugs from children and kisses from old ladies on the street

Agreeing to drink home-made beer concoctions (with food I’m not as brave)

To playing ping-pong against the elementary school teachers

Invitations to eat lunch (I’m never allowed to pay and it makes me uncomfortable)

To the countless awkward proposals from disrespectful men who want to immigrate the U.S.

(just kidding on that last one!)

            Next, I remind myself that even though it can be overwhelming, the attention that I’m receiving might dissipate and I need to take advantage of people’s interest while I’ve got such a captive audience. With this I go to meetings, job shadow and listen to every invitation and idea even if I’m not too keen on it or don’t think that it is plausible. Who knows!? I’ve heard from other volunteers that sometimes the most unlikely projects turn out to the most successful and rewarding. Just today I was given a tour of the public library and cultural museum… we’ll just say it has a lot of potential. Basically all the university textbooks that have lost their campus value end up in small towns libraries in developing nations (who knew?)! I haven’t found too many American’s, let alone Ethiopians, that read macroeconomics, organic chemistry or accounting textbooks for fun. No wonder there isn’t much of a reading culture here!

(If anyone is interested in organizing a book donation please contact me)

            Expanding the library’s inventory never crossed my mind, and it would definitely be a large, but worthwhile project. Being a PC volunteer, no matter if your focus is health, education or environment, means being a community member so I shouldn’t be narrow minded when it comes to picking projects.  After all, my family is full of devoted library patrons (what an understatement)!

            Learning new hobbies such as crocheting, making grass baskets, taek wondo (it’s huge here!), and playing the harmonica are other ways I’m developing a sense of fulfillment and getting to know people in my community. I’ve also been re-igniting my long lost love of soccer by playing at the high school a few days a week. My teammates include teachers and students both young and old. It should be no surprise that I am the only woman on the field. Probably the only females some of these men have seen play soccer in person, let alone played soccer with. Fortunately, everyone is welcoming and enthusiastic about my participation (when I play poorly they kindly say “B, you are not lucky today” and I correct them by saying.. “yeah, I’m terrible”). On the side lines though, I’ve had a conversation correcting the myth that men are biologically stronger than women… if only my athleticism could speak for itself (maybe after I get in shape?). Regardless of my huffing and puffing, I love playing with these guys and slowly getting back in shape.

            Little by little I am planting seeds and sowing them. My circle of friends is growing, I’m out of my compound most of the day instead of hiding inside reading and sometimes I even hear “B” when I walk down the streets instead of “china” “mister” “you, you, you” or “ferengi”. Becoming more integrated in my community has helped alleviate my homesickness (somewhat) and given me that patience to work through the challenges and frustrations that are an inevitable part of life here.

New Years and new friends

3 January 2012

Libbey, Brian and me on our New Year's hike.

After a fun filled Christmas weekend in Hawasa and Wondo Genet, I barely had time to get working at my new site as New Years came the following weekend. We don’t frequently get permission or excuses to leave our sites so Theresa, Orion and I seized the opportunity and took off East to Dinsho, the entrance of Bale National Park and the home of a fellow volunteer Brian.

New Year's Eve sunset in Bale National Park

Brian is one of approximately 20 people who live(legally) inside Bale National Park. His closest neighbors are the bushbucks, hyenas, baboons and nyalla that frequent his compound, sometimes even coming into the kitchen looking for snacks. The variety of volunteer living conditions, work environments and communities is astounding. Just last week I was on a college campus where Bob and Nancy work at Ethiopia’s only forestry college. It was landscape full of avocado trees, monkeys, asphalt roads and even adults who are accustomed to foreigners and don’t harass them. Bob and Nancy teach at the college where they have an office and a house with a sink and even an oven inside! In Hawasa Rich works as an IT volunteer at the AIDS resource center. He too has a desk with a computer! Outside his office big city is full of ferengi grocery stores and offers postcard worthy views daily of the sun setting over lake Hawasa.

Brian’s electricity and cell phone reception doesn’t always work, he doesn’t have internet, an office or close neighbors to invite him to coffee, yet I covet his site the most. There are 4 simple reasons for this:

1)      Brian has a hot shower with great water pressure!

2)      At night the hyenas and warthogs surround his living quarters and they make so much noise it is frightening to walk 25 feet uphill in order to simply use the bathroom.

3)      When researchers come to visit the park they live in the dorm rooms next to Brian. This has given him opportunities to become involved with various projects including some work with National Geographic!

4)      There is a marvelous rickety old fence around the park and an admission fee that does a pretty great job ensuring that Brian and his wild friends have the place to themselves most of the time.



The sleepy town of Dinsho



Crossing a bridge of a waterfall on our hike N. of Dinsho

Fueling up with food before our celebration!

For New Years we went on a hike north of Dinsho with a flat rocky landscape so unlike the mountainous forests behind it I almost forgot where I was. We spent the evening cooking delicious food, staying warm over a bonfire and having a shameless dance party. Other volunteers have told me that the “Bale crew” is a fun one, and now I have witnessed it for myself. I am elated to be a part of it.

24 hours of lunacy, but nothing too out of the ordinary

28 Dec 2011

Yesterday while returning home from Wondo Genet I had to change buses in Dodola for the last 30km of my trip. I resisted demands to put my duffle bag on top even though I knew the bus would be a full one. Unwilling to separate from my luggage, I climbed into the van and sat on the last 6 inches of the seat closest to the door. By the time we left there were 20 people in a van built for 12 passengers. Obviously, me having my luggage didn’t make things more comfortable, but I was unwilling to let my belongings sit on top and risk them becoming damaged, or being forced to pay 10 Birr to have them removed when I got off the bus. Within less than 10 minutes after taking off we pulled over to collect the jerry cans that had fallen from the top of the van. Two more times we stopped to re-tie the water cans down again. I smiled to myself knowing that for once my stubbornness had served me well.

This morning I found a staple in my oatmeal.Between the oats, peanut butter, cinnamon and sugar I can’t exactly pin down where it came from. I’ve learned to be cautious of rocks in my lentils, beans, wheat and rice. People spend hours combing through their grains to remove such impurities… but how could I have expected an office supply in my Quaker oatmeal?

It’s Wednesday which is my second opportunity to get goods from our market. I was stopped by a man who I’ve met before (but I couldn’t tell you where) and we went through the motions of smiles and greetings. Afterwards, he kept his hand on my shoulder and asked if I needed help at the market. I explained that my friend Taayich was there with me and I didn’t need help. I made my way with her to the fruit stands where he again interrupted me as I was trying to buy mangos. Awkward jokes led to him inviting me to lunch. I politely refused his offer saying that I already had plans and without warning he asked if I was married. As recommended by other volunteers, I do wear a wedding band on my left hand to help people make assumptions and improve my chances of not acquiring any stalkers. If they do ask my status I respond that I have a boyfriend in America which isn’t entirely honest, but again keeps me away from uncomfortable situations. When this particular man heard that I was unavailable he lost his façade and got straight to the point: “I need to go to America. Can you help me?” I told him that I couldn’t help him and that I am unfamiliar with the immigration process. I referred him to the U.S. embassy and the next thing I knew he gave up on me and left. Next time I should just have the embassy’s phone number on hand and tell people to call my friend who can help them.



My compound mate, and english student Rama



Around dinner time roommates insisted on helping me clean the floor of my room. I tried to sweep but the broom was quickly commandeered by Taayich. Afterwards, she grabbed a mop which was accompanied by a bucket full of dirty water. After successfully making the floor of my room wet I thought she would be satisfied, but not quite. She quickly returned with a jerry can full of liquid which she poured on her hands and tossed around the floor of my room. Unable to identify the liquid by how it was being used or the looks of it I finally ventured a guess and asked if it was some sort of oil, "No" she replied “it is gas.” As my jaw fell open my nostrils seized the fumes and began to sting. My attempts to understand why gas was the preferred floor cleaning agent were ignored as Taayich explained how gasoline makes the floor beautiful and after it dries it will not smell. Six hours later my floor is still somewhat damp and the air remains volatile. As far as beautiful goes, I cannot say that I notice a difference of any sort. Next time I am going to have to be more assertive about doing my own housework.

While my room aired-out we went on a walk south of town. Going with friends is best because they can help answer all of the strangers who want to know who I am, where I am going and how I managed to learn their language. We walked towards a low river that intersects fields of wheat and onions as it parallels a dusty road. Walking towards nowhere in particular we passed fences made of cactus which delineated property and wards off browsing sheep. The longer we walked the quicker that word spread and pretty soon I could hear people saying “ferengi” before we could see them. One gentleman walked up to me, gave me a soldier’s salute and pulled his scarf down so that I could see his bleached beard. Many of the older Muslim men in my town grow beards and some are dyed (to symbolize they've been to Mecca), but I have never seen someone fondle their beard in public. He was quirky and friendly so I played along “dhifama garu areda hin qabu” I said (excuse me but I don’t have a beard). We laughed and then he asked me if I would give him money to buy a cigarette. My normal response to money demands is “Quarshi barbaata? Mana bankii demii” (If you want money go to the bank), but because this man was my elder and wasn’t making his demands loudly from across the street so I held my tongue. What I wanted to ask, as he stared at me proudly stroking his orange beard is “aren’t you Muslim?”

A few days later on the same dirt road I was asked by a woman if I had children. Thinking she was making friendly conversation I replied that I did not and asked if she herself had children. Not only did she have children, but she went ahead and asked if I wanted one! Unprepared with appropriate language skills, and too astonished to say anything worthwhile I just stared at her wide eyed saying “Why!?” “No I don’t want your kid… it’s your child!” “Why!?” Even if my words were unclear, my face had grown pale with shock and my eyes were wide, upset by her offer. She said “ok, ok, ok” and moved along. I want to hand out condoms the next time someone asks me that so I don’t have to say anything at all. However, because I’m trying NOT to be culturally insensitive I think I should just work on my language skills instead.