Monday, August 25, 2008
On Community
It’s incredible to finally feel like I belong, at least in some measure, in this place that is so very different from my home and what I’m familiar with. It’s surprising and heartening. Not to say that I feel totally comfortable or “at home” here all the time—far from it, still—but I at least feel like I’m making some steps in the right direction and being rewarded for them.
The Olympics have been a tremendous community-builder. People here are crazy for the track and field. I’ve been watching a lot of it at the small café on the corner of my block. The first Ethiopian gold medal race was one of the most memorable moments for me here so far. Kristen Straw was here visiting, and we were walking by with some groceries when we saw a huge crowd gathered at the café. We went in and it was 21 minutes into the 29 (ish) minute race. Tirunesh Dibaba, the Ethiopian, was holding steady in second place behind a Kenyan. She was keeping pace, but barely. The crowd was tense. At the very end, though, just a couple of seconds after the bell rang signaling the last lap, Tirunesh took off, and ended the race at last 10 meters in the lead. I’ve never seen spectators as excited about an athletic event—jumping up and down, hooting and cheering, high fives all around. Straw and I cheered along with them. What a moment of national pride. And then they showed the American who won bronze pulling the flag around her shoulders. Straw and I applauded and cheered. The whole bar—maybe 50 men (we were literally the only women in the place)—turned and stared at us. And then they stood up and cheered along with us. How incredible…to think that athletics can bring people together like that. Amazing.
We said goodbye this week to a dear friend and colleague, Dr. Happyson, who is ending his year-and-a-half long contract here in Ethiopia, to return to his family in the US (Zimbawean, he emigrated to California a few years ago). He’s been a great friend and mentor, and I’ll be sad to see him go. It was interesting, though, at the hospital, to realize how much a part of the work community he had become, even given the language barrier and the various ambiguities of working here. It gave me hope that when I leave in a year or so, people will feel the same way about saying goodbye to me as they have to him. It was also nice to see that Happyson felt sad on some level to be leaving here, despite his excitement about seeing his wife and daughters.
I’m also starting to feel more and more comfortable in my neighborhood. There’s a big group of pre-teen boys who have taken to me. They come over every day (sometimes more than once a day!), wanting to play soccer or hang out in my yard or chit-chat with me or practice English or just to say hello. Sometimes they’re enormously annoying, like when they knock on my gate at 7:15am and won’t leave me alone, but I’m also really growing to like them. And it’s nice to know that they’re looking out for me. (At all times! They always know whether I’m home or not). We have English class every weekend for half an hour or an hour, and this week I read out loud the three storybooks I have here. They were hanging on every word, and hanging off of me to look at the pictures. That’s something I could use more of if you’re interested in sending—picture books (about a 2nd grade level, with pictures, no figurative language, and lots of repetition). They needn’t be new, and I’ll just plan on leaving them with a school here when I go.
And there’s an incredibly sweet old lady who lives on the next block who has made a special effort to befriend me. It’s hard, because she speaks not a word of English, and my Amharic is still not great (and I probably have a very strong accent…), and she’s somewhat hard of hearing, but her face just lights up every time she sees me. She kisses each of my shoulders, which is a sign of great respect, and holds and pats my hands while talking to me. She’s asked a couple of times to come see my house, but I’ve always been on my way somewhere. This morning she came by at about 9am (thankfully I was already awake and dressed!) and I had her in for tea. Conversation was, predictably, a little tough, but it was clear that it was so special for her to be at my house. She lives alone, and I’m sure that even just the company was nice. I enjoyed spending time with her as well.
This whole day was one of the best so far in Ethiopia. After tea with my neighbor, I went to the market and had a surprisingly hassle-free shopping trip. Then went to my friend Tigist’s daughter’s 10th birthday party. Tigist works with me, and another three of the women I really like from work were there too, as well as some of Rewina’s friends and aunts and uncles and neighbors. What a lovely celebration! We all crammed in around the coffee table in their one-room house, and Tigist had prepared all sorts of special foods. We all brought little gifts for Rewina (I brought a set of Uno cards), and Rewina was so excited about all the attention. She had been in the hospital last week for pneumonia, and it was so lovely to see her well and happy again. She was dressed up in a traditional dress, and everyone got jazzed up about taking pictures. They also had some fireworks (sparklers and tiny miniature fountains for the top of the cake), which the kids (and some of the adults!) were half crazy for and half terrified of. We hung out all afternoon, drinking coffee and eating cake and fruit and playing Uno and taking photos of each other.
How great is it to have friends? It’s been almost 11 months since I got to Ethiopia, and I’m just beginning to make real friends. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself, and really happy about that development. I’m realizing how much being a part of a community means to me, especially in a place like Ethiopia where community is everything. I feel tremendously lucky to be finding—or making—little by little, a community of my own here.
On an unrelated note, thought that I should share that the mouse problem has been solved by my friendly neighborhood cat, who caught and ate the mouse (Or rat? Even though it was huge, I’d prefer to believe it was a mouse…) in front of me. There may have been a time in my life when that would have freaked me out. That time is not now: I was (a) fascinated, and (b) rooting for the cat. So nights are once again peaceful, without mice eating my tomatoes or scurrying under my bed. I did, however, find two small frogs in my living room tonight. Oh, rainy season.
One other thing. Today is the end of a fasting season for Orthodox Christians (they’ve been abstaining from meat, milk, animal products, and alcohol for 2.5 weeks). So, fittingly, everyone is gorging on dairy and meat today. On my way back from the market, I took a bajaj (motorcycle taxi, usually holds three or four people). Passengers: me, a young technical college student, and his very large, very vocal sheep, on its way to being lunch.
The Olympics have been a tremendous community-builder. People here are crazy for the track and field. I’ve been watching a lot of it at the small café on the corner of my block. The first Ethiopian gold medal race was one of the most memorable moments for me here so far. Kristen Straw was here visiting, and we were walking by with some groceries when we saw a huge crowd gathered at the café. We went in and it was 21 minutes into the 29 (ish) minute race. Tirunesh Dibaba, the Ethiopian, was holding steady in second place behind a Kenyan. She was keeping pace, but barely. The crowd was tense. At the very end, though, just a couple of seconds after the bell rang signaling the last lap, Tirunesh took off, and ended the race at last 10 meters in the lead. I’ve never seen spectators as excited about an athletic event—jumping up and down, hooting and cheering, high fives all around. Straw and I cheered along with them. What a moment of national pride. And then they showed the American who won bronze pulling the flag around her shoulders. Straw and I applauded and cheered. The whole bar—maybe 50 men (we were literally the only women in the place)—turned and stared at us. And then they stood up and cheered along with us. How incredible…to think that athletics can bring people together like that. Amazing.
We said goodbye this week to a dear friend and colleague, Dr. Happyson, who is ending his year-and-a-half long contract here in Ethiopia, to return to his family in the US (Zimbawean, he emigrated to California a few years ago). He’s been a great friend and mentor, and I’ll be sad to see him go. It was interesting, though, at the hospital, to realize how much a part of the work community he had become, even given the language barrier and the various ambiguities of working here. It gave me hope that when I leave in a year or so, people will feel the same way about saying goodbye to me as they have to him. It was also nice to see that Happyson felt sad on some level to be leaving here, despite his excitement about seeing his wife and daughters.
I’m also starting to feel more and more comfortable in my neighborhood. There’s a big group of pre-teen boys who have taken to me. They come over every day (sometimes more than once a day!), wanting to play soccer or hang out in my yard or chit-chat with me or practice English or just to say hello. Sometimes they’re enormously annoying, like when they knock on my gate at 7:15am and won’t leave me alone, but I’m also really growing to like them. And it’s nice to know that they’re looking out for me. (At all times! They always know whether I’m home or not). We have English class every weekend for half an hour or an hour, and this week I read out loud the three storybooks I have here. They were hanging on every word, and hanging off of me to look at the pictures. That’s something I could use more of if you’re interested in sending—picture books (about a 2nd grade level, with pictures, no figurative language, and lots of repetition). They needn’t be new, and I’ll just plan on leaving them with a school here when I go.
And there’s an incredibly sweet old lady who lives on the next block who has made a special effort to befriend me. It’s hard, because she speaks not a word of English, and my Amharic is still not great (and I probably have a very strong accent…), and she’s somewhat hard of hearing, but her face just lights up every time she sees me. She kisses each of my shoulders, which is a sign of great respect, and holds and pats my hands while talking to me. She’s asked a couple of times to come see my house, but I’ve always been on my way somewhere. This morning she came by at about 9am (thankfully I was already awake and dressed!) and I had her in for tea. Conversation was, predictably, a little tough, but it was clear that it was so special for her to be at my house. She lives alone, and I’m sure that even just the company was nice. I enjoyed spending time with her as well.
This whole day was one of the best so far in Ethiopia. After tea with my neighbor, I went to the market and had a surprisingly hassle-free shopping trip. Then went to my friend Tigist’s daughter’s 10th birthday party. Tigist works with me, and another three of the women I really like from work were there too, as well as some of Rewina’s friends and aunts and uncles and neighbors. What a lovely celebration! We all crammed in around the coffee table in their one-room house, and Tigist had prepared all sorts of special foods. We all brought little gifts for Rewina (I brought a set of Uno cards), and Rewina was so excited about all the attention. She had been in the hospital last week for pneumonia, and it was so lovely to see her well and happy again. She was dressed up in a traditional dress, and everyone got jazzed up about taking pictures. They also had some fireworks (sparklers and tiny miniature fountains for the top of the cake), which the kids (and some of the adults!) were half crazy for and half terrified of. We hung out all afternoon, drinking coffee and eating cake and fruit and playing Uno and taking photos of each other.
How great is it to have friends? It’s been almost 11 months since I got to Ethiopia, and I’m just beginning to make real friends. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself, and really happy about that development. I’m realizing how much being a part of a community means to me, especially in a place like Ethiopia where community is everything. I feel tremendously lucky to be finding—or making—little by little, a community of my own here.
On an unrelated note, thought that I should share that the mouse problem has been solved by my friendly neighborhood cat, who caught and ate the mouse (Or rat? Even though it was huge, I’d prefer to believe it was a mouse…) in front of me. There may have been a time in my life when that would have freaked me out. That time is not now: I was (a) fascinated, and (b) rooting for the cat. So nights are once again peaceful, without mice eating my tomatoes or scurrying under my bed. I did, however, find two small frogs in my living room tonight. Oh, rainy season.
One other thing. Today is the end of a fasting season for Orthodox Christians (they’ve been abstaining from meat, milk, animal products, and alcohol for 2.5 weeks). So, fittingly, everyone is gorging on dairy and meat today. On my way back from the market, I took a bajaj (motorcycle taxi, usually holds three or four people). Passengers: me, a young technical college student, and his very large, very vocal sheep, on its way to being lunch.
Friday, August 1, 2008
No, I haven't fallen off the face of the planet (quite...)
Yes, it has been more than six weeks since I've posted anything. Let me tell you what I've been up to...
I just arrived this morning from the most wonderful trip. My best friend Ruth came to visit, and we went together to Uganda to see another dear friend, Lauren. Ruth arrived in Ethiopia on July 11, and I have no idea where the past three weeks have gone. It was so lovely to spend time with these two amazing people, and we also managed to pack in quite a lot of activity. Photos to follow, I promise. Here's--in brief(ish)--what we did. I'm exhausted! And a bit bummed to be back to the "real" world after such a nice vacation.
I met Ruth at the airport late Friday night, and we spent the next rainy, cold day in Addis, checking out museums that I had never seen. We saw Lucy (Australopithecus afarensis) at the suprisingly poorly maintained National Museum, and learned about the ten-zillion Ethiopian cultures at the surprisingly lovely Ethnological Museum. Low point of the day? Me ruining a pair of Ruth's socks with my disgusting wet muddy smelly leather shoes.
We hired a car the next day to drive us up to Bahir Dar (not wanting to submit a jet-lagged friend to the misery of the minibus journey, but still wanting to see the countryside). We spent nearly a week in Bahir Dar, meeting all of my friends, impressing people with Ruth's height (she's 6'2"), making lots of delicious food (and having delicious food prepared for us, including--gasp--homemade pizza), having our hair done in cornrows (much to the delight of all of my neighbors, who watched the whole process), and checking out the local tourist sites. A highlight was definitely taking the local bus out to the Blue Nile Falls. We paid a third of what we would on an organized tour, and our luck was phenomenal--timing was perfect both ways, and on the bus we met a great newlywed Ethiopian couple (the wife had actually presented about psychosocial support for orphans during our Pre-Service Training) and a fabulous family from Addis, including a nine-year-old with the most flawless English I've experienced in Ethiopia ("I think there's going to be a stampede!" he shouted when we saw a herd of cows). We shared a great hiking/boat tour to the foot of the falls, which were, unfortunately, pretty anemic since the hydroelectric plant upstream is straining to produce enough electricity to cope with increasing energy demands. At any rate, time in B/D was great (and no rain, except for some spectacular thundershowers late at night, which was a treat).
Next spent some time in Gondar with the volunteers there. Saw the impressive castles and churches, and spent some nice time with people there. Then back to Addis, a morning spent being overwhelmed by the hugeness that is Merkato (it's reported to be the largest outdoor market in Africa, which is definitely saying something). Spent hours scouring the market for various odds and ends...jars for honey (we were convinced to buy 4 kilograms of raw honey, it was so tasty...We'll hope that US customs will allow it in...), gifts--including some pretty awesome shoes (wait for them, Andrew), etc. All in all, it was much less of a hassle than we had expected, and we came away from the morning quite pleased with the experience and proud of our bargaining prowess and anti-pickpocketing abilities. We both decided, however, that Addis might not be the greatest place to live; given the traffic, the pollution, the overcrowding, the hassle, the cold, and the rain in Addis, I much prefer Bahir Dar. It is nice to be in the city occasionally though--hit up some good foreign restaurants and actually get some productive work done (I had a couple of really great meeting regarding thesis work before Ruth arrived...more about that another time).
And then. UGANDA. We flew in last Friday and Lauren met us at the airport. I don't think I've ever crammed as much activity into a week as we did this past one. First spent three days at Murchison Falls National Park in the Northwest of the country. Downright amazing. The falls purportedly are the largest in the world, in terms of the amount of water going over them. I'd believe it. There was frothy white foam (apparently from minerals being scraped off of rocks upstream) trailing down the river for miles. We saw crocodiles, hippos, approximately a million different species of antelope, giraffes, elephants, warthogs, and some spectacular birds. Favorites included the Goliath Heron (huge!), the hideous Maribu Stork, the Red-Throated Bee-Eater, the Pied Kingfisher, and an enormous, odd-looking fellow called the Abyssinian Ground Hornbill.
We also got to spend lots of quality time together, and I especially enjoyed seeing Lauren's work. She's a Yale Med Student who's in Kampala for the summer doing research on lead poisoning among schoolkids on the outskirts of Kampala. She and another student are testing 150 kids and doing home visits, including GPS surveys of the homes' proximity to the dumping site, which they suspect is leaching heavy metals. Pretty neat work, and I'm so impressed at Lauren and Danny for their organization and competence in carrying out such a big project. The kids (age 6 and 7) were so so cute. One was quite vociforous about not wanting his blood tested. "Mzungu [aka farengi, aka white person] needles hurt too much!" he yelled. But then he got some stickers, a lollipop, and the opportunity to play with Ruth's camera and it turned out that the mzungus weren't so bad after all.
On Wednesday, we went on a day trip to Jinja, where Ruth and Lauren mountain biked and Danny and I went whitewater rafting on the Nile. Ironically, I didn't bike because I was too scared. Ironic, because this rafting was pretty much the most terrifying (and at the same time one of the most amazing) things I've ever done. We went off of an 8 foot waterfall. Got flipped five times. Sucked under water multiple multiple times. Went through a rapid known only as "The Bad Place." Danny somehow tricked me into going on the most adventuresome boat ("Team Extreme"), with a bunch of crazy people. It was wonderful. Terrifying. Totally, completely, entirely, paralyzingly terrifying, but also so incredibly fun. Lauren and Ruth biked to one of the rapids to take our photos and captured a pretty nice time lapse series of us paddling like crazy, then holding on for dear life, then flipping vertically up into the air, then being rescued by safety kayaks. Having survived it, it's both incredible and hilarious.
And then yesterday packed up and spent the night in Entebbe, near the airport, on the shores of Lake Victoria. I waded, probably inviting lots of schistosomaisis and other fun parasites in, but it was worth it. Sad goodbyes last night, and bleary-eyed ones this morning, as I stumbled out to the airport at three in the morning.
What a trip. I am so lucky to have had this opportunity, and so very very lucky to have these girls as friends. Such a treat.
And now I'm back in Addis, getting ready to head back tomorrow to Bahir Dar and to the realities of work and thesis preparations and life with a squat toilet and only cold water. I'm trying to let this trip be refreshing and re-energizing, rather than letting myself feel sad about it being over. I have all sorts of plans for renewed enthusiasm and motivation for work. Hoping that those will last.
I'll write more soon. Perhaps part of my leaf-turning-over can include a resolution to be a bit better about keeping in touch. Keep sending me snail mail, too. I'm actually pretty good(ish) about replying to that.
I just arrived this morning from the most wonderful trip. My best friend Ruth came to visit, and we went together to Uganda to see another dear friend, Lauren. Ruth arrived in Ethiopia on July 11, and I have no idea where the past three weeks have gone. It was so lovely to spend time with these two amazing people, and we also managed to pack in quite a lot of activity. Photos to follow, I promise. Here's--in brief(ish)--what we did. I'm exhausted! And a bit bummed to be back to the "real" world after such a nice vacation.
I met Ruth at the airport late Friday night, and we spent the next rainy, cold day in Addis, checking out museums that I had never seen. We saw Lucy (Australopithecus afarensis) at the suprisingly poorly maintained National Museum, and learned about the ten-zillion Ethiopian cultures at the surprisingly lovely Ethnological Museum. Low point of the day? Me ruining a pair of Ruth's socks with my disgusting wet muddy smelly leather shoes.
We hired a car the next day to drive us up to Bahir Dar (not wanting to submit a jet-lagged friend to the misery of the minibus journey, but still wanting to see the countryside). We spent nearly a week in Bahir Dar, meeting all of my friends, impressing people with Ruth's height (she's 6'2"), making lots of delicious food (and having delicious food prepared for us, including--gasp--homemade pizza), having our hair done in cornrows (much to the delight of all of my neighbors, who watched the whole process), and checking out the local tourist sites. A highlight was definitely taking the local bus out to the Blue Nile Falls. We paid a third of what we would on an organized tour, and our luck was phenomenal--timing was perfect both ways, and on the bus we met a great newlywed Ethiopian couple (the wife had actually presented about psychosocial support for orphans during our Pre-Service Training) and a fabulous family from Addis, including a nine-year-old with the most flawless English I've experienced in Ethiopia ("I think there's going to be a stampede!" he shouted when we saw a herd of cows). We shared a great hiking/boat tour to the foot of the falls, which were, unfortunately, pretty anemic since the hydroelectric plant upstream is straining to produce enough electricity to cope with increasing energy demands. At any rate, time in B/D was great (and no rain, except for some spectacular thundershowers late at night, which was a treat).
Next spent some time in Gondar with the volunteers there. Saw the impressive castles and churches, and spent some nice time with people there. Then back to Addis, a morning spent being overwhelmed by the hugeness that is Merkato (it's reported to be the largest outdoor market in Africa, which is definitely saying something). Spent hours scouring the market for various odds and ends...jars for honey (we were convinced to buy 4 kilograms of raw honey, it was so tasty...We'll hope that US customs will allow it in...), gifts--including some pretty awesome shoes (wait for them, Andrew), etc. All in all, it was much less of a hassle than we had expected, and we came away from the morning quite pleased with the experience and proud of our bargaining prowess and anti-pickpocketing abilities. We both decided, however, that Addis might not be the greatest place to live; given the traffic, the pollution, the overcrowding, the hassle, the cold, and the rain in Addis, I much prefer Bahir Dar. It is nice to be in the city occasionally though--hit up some good foreign restaurants and actually get some productive work done (I had a couple of really great meeting regarding thesis work before Ruth arrived...more about that another time).
And then. UGANDA. We flew in last Friday and Lauren met us at the airport. I don't think I've ever crammed as much activity into a week as we did this past one. First spent three days at Murchison Falls National Park in the Northwest of the country. Downright amazing. The falls purportedly are the largest in the world, in terms of the amount of water going over them. I'd believe it. There was frothy white foam (apparently from minerals being scraped off of rocks upstream) trailing down the river for miles. We saw crocodiles, hippos, approximately a million different species of antelope, giraffes, elephants, warthogs, and some spectacular birds. Favorites included the Goliath Heron (huge!), the hideous Maribu Stork, the Red-Throated Bee-Eater, the Pied Kingfisher, and an enormous, odd-looking fellow called the Abyssinian Ground Hornbill.
We also got to spend lots of quality time together, and I especially enjoyed seeing Lauren's work. She's a Yale Med Student who's in Kampala for the summer doing research on lead poisoning among schoolkids on the outskirts of Kampala. She and another student are testing 150 kids and doing home visits, including GPS surveys of the homes' proximity to the dumping site, which they suspect is leaching heavy metals. Pretty neat work, and I'm so impressed at Lauren and Danny for their organization and competence in carrying out such a big project. The kids (age 6 and 7) were so so cute. One was quite vociforous about not wanting his blood tested. "Mzungu [aka farengi, aka white person] needles hurt too much!" he yelled. But then he got some stickers, a lollipop, and the opportunity to play with Ruth's camera and it turned out that the mzungus weren't so bad after all.
On Wednesday, we went on a day trip to Jinja, where Ruth and Lauren mountain biked and Danny and I went whitewater rafting on the Nile. Ironically, I didn't bike because I was too scared. Ironic, because this rafting was pretty much the most terrifying (and at the same time one of the most amazing) things I've ever done. We went off of an 8 foot waterfall. Got flipped five times. Sucked under water multiple multiple times. Went through a rapid known only as "The Bad Place." Danny somehow tricked me into going on the most adventuresome boat ("Team Extreme"), with a bunch of crazy people. It was wonderful. Terrifying. Totally, completely, entirely, paralyzingly terrifying, but also so incredibly fun. Lauren and Ruth biked to one of the rapids to take our photos and captured a pretty nice time lapse series of us paddling like crazy, then holding on for dear life, then flipping vertically up into the air, then being rescued by safety kayaks. Having survived it, it's both incredible and hilarious.
And then yesterday packed up and spent the night in Entebbe, near the airport, on the shores of Lake Victoria. I waded, probably inviting lots of schistosomaisis and other fun parasites in, but it was worth it. Sad goodbyes last night, and bleary-eyed ones this morning, as I stumbled out to the airport at three in the morning.
What a trip. I am so lucky to have had this opportunity, and so very very lucky to have these girls as friends. Such a treat.
And now I'm back in Addis, getting ready to head back tomorrow to Bahir Dar and to the realities of work and thesis preparations and life with a squat toilet and only cold water. I'm trying to let this trip be refreshing and re-energizing, rather than letting myself feel sad about it being over. I have all sorts of plans for renewed enthusiasm and motivation for work. Hoping that those will last.
I'll write more soon. Perhaps part of my leaf-turning-over can include a resolution to be a bit better about keeping in touch. Keep sending me snail mail, too. I'm actually pretty good(ish) about replying to that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
