I learned to make tortillas and nothing has been the same since.

 Dinner of chicken tacos with freshly made guacamole.

Breakfast tacos with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and tapitio.

Asella in the AM

Status Update

I want a nice breakfast this morning. So at 9:00am, I finally get out of bed after an hour of reading and listening to music, put on some clothes, find two sandals (they even match), and head to the corner sook to purchase eggs and bread. As I walk the thirty feet, I pass three horses with carts attached to them and men loading them up with bags of grain from the mill. I pass dogs lazily basking in the sun. I pass a few donkeys and avoided looking in their sad, sad eyes. In the thirty feet to my corner sook, I pass seven children. Each and every one of them expects a moment of my time and some small interaction. “Laura, what is your name?” is uttered twice. I fist bomb each and every one and my thirty foot walk takes me about five minutes.

Once at the corner sook, I go through the necessary greetings that must take place before any business can happen. I see the sook keeper’s daughter, scope her up, and tickle her as she giggles happily at the crazy foreigner. The sook is out of eggs but has freshly made bread. I ask him for one and he searches around for the softest he has. I pay my 1.20 birr and contemplate where to go for eggs.

I head away from my house towards a crowded roundabout. Once again, kids come running up to me for a fist bomb or scream my name just for a wave. I turn right at the roundabout and head uphill. I walk pass women washing clothes and men trying to invite me into their homes for reasons I never intent to find out. Some yell “you, you” or the Amharic version “anchi, anchi”. One man knows a bit of English so I get my first, “beautiful girl, come here!” of the day. As I have bed hair, crust in my eye, and unbrushed teeth, I cannot help but make myself chuckle by thinking, “I still got it!”

I finally make it to another, larger sook for the sought after eggs. I again go through the greeting that this country runs on before I can ask, “ink’ulal alla?” He replies that he does not have eggs but points me to where I can find them. I continue uphill and turn left into the animal market. Here, I can buy goats, sheep, chickens, and perhaps, if it is the right kind of day, cows. I walk towards the chicken area and see a pile of eggs next to a man selling chickens. I ask him for three eggs, as his hands are full with two, unruly chickens. It is likely that one of these birds recently produced the eggs I will be eating shortly. He does not want to put them down so he hands them to me. I grab the four chicken legs as their owners flap wildly below. I cannot help but grin as I stand, holding two chickens that will be someone’s dinner tonight, at 9:15 in the morning. We trade the three eggs for the chickens; I pay him the 6.75 birr, and am on my way.

As I walk home, I pass most of the same children and they all require the same amount of attention as before. No men call out for me. They seem to know that I have a deep desire to throw an egg at someone before my time here is done. I am now armed. I make the hundred-yard walk home in about ten minutes. As I unlock my door and set everything down, I am stuck by how normal and routine everything that just transpired feels. I think to myself, “this is my life now, and I am somehow content with it.”

These moments and experiences are happening more and more often. I have been living in Asella for 6 months and something in me has changed. I went through my first, true crisis of contemplating going home and I came out stronger on the other side for it. It is no longer a question of can I do this? but, instead, will I be able to motivate myself to do this?

There is a very specific life cycle of an average volunteer that every PCV in the world is shown. According to this, I am hitting my stride and I could not agree more. My life is by no means easier, my work still feels fruitless, and I am by no means happy all the time; but I, for the first time in the 8 months and 8 day I’ve been in this country, am starting to feel like I have a handle on things. In talking with other volunteers in my group, it seems to be happening to everyone. During a training last week, there was a certain confidence emanating that has never been there before. Group 7’s got little swagger.

It is an enjoyable period of my service. I have a routine that keeps me sane. I have a grasp on what is going on around me. I have fantastic people that I get to see on a regular basis. I have a sense of normalcy for the first time. And while the PCV life cycle says this period will only last about three more months, I intend to enjoy it as much, and for as long, as I can.

An Open Letter

The following is taken from a Peace Corps Volunteer's blog who is currently serving in Cambodia. For those without a map (or who were educated in the US and thus have no concept of geography [me]), Ethiopia and Cambodia are thousands of kilometers apart. In reality, they may as well be a world apart because they are so different in just about every aspect: culture, food, religion, people, etc.Yet when I read this, I instantly felt jealous that I did not write it. The following blog entry is not only beautiful, but it is probably the most accurate description of PC service I have ever read. It was too good to not share. Hope you enjoy it half as much as I did.

"Dear Person Contemplating Joining Peace Corps,

I imagine that you’re at a transition point in your life. Perhaps you’ve just graduated, perhaps you’re going through a career change, perhaps you have an itch for something more that can’t be scratched. Whatever the reason, here you are: contemplating joining Peace Corps.

But should you? Is it right for you?

Honestly, you might not know that until you’ve arrived. You can research by reading books and official publications or by talking with current/returned volunteers, but everything you read and hear will probably tell you the same thing: every person’s experience is different. Your Peace Corps life will be uniquely shaped by your country, program, and site.

I’d like to think, though, that there are a few things that are universal throughout the Peace Corps world, and those things tend all to revolve around how you yourself will change - for the better and for the worse - because of your time in Peace Corps.

‘Sanitary’ will become an obsolete concept. You will eat on mats that you know are saturated in urine. You will prepare food on counters that also serve as chicken roosts. You will not have consistent/frequent access to soap. You will eat street food that is undoubtedly questionable. You will be dirty, dusty, and sweaty at all times. You will have mind over body battles to force yourself to bucket shower in the winter. Bugs, lizards, chickens, ducks, and mice will crap on everything. These things will be ok. You’ll adjust. The sterile environment of the States will become a distant odd memory or a constant fantasy.

Your body, though, might not adjust as quickly. You will have parasites and infections and illnesses that you had never heard of before training. You will be constantly constipated. Or go the opposite extreme. I hate to say it, but you will probably poop in your pants at least once. You will learn to vomit over a squat toilet and into a plastic bag during a bus ride. You will discuss your bodily functions openly and enthusiastically with other volunteers. No topic will be taboo.

The way you communicate will completely transform. Learning a language from scratch through immersion is a powerful experience. You will learn to have complex communications though expressions, gestures, and basic vocabulary. You will learn to bond with another human being through silence. You will answer the same basic questions over and over and over again. You may never achieve the ability to discuss ideas and concepts. You will develop a new English language which consists of pared down vocabulary and grammatical structures. You will actively think of each word before you speak. Your speech patterns will slow. You will have to define words whose meanings you had always taken for granted. You will learn to listen.

Your concept of money will entirely alter. Paying more than $1 for anything will cause you to pause and question your purchase. You will understand value in the context of a different economic system. You will learn to barter, even on cheaper items. You will consistently feel as though you have been cheated on the price. You will be enraged by all prices upon returning to the States.

You will embrace the thrilling dichotomies of thrift versus splurge and ration versus binge. No one knows how to budget like a Peace Corps volunteer. And no one can binge like one.

You will be discontented with your work. You will wonder – and scream to the heavens – about the benefit of your presence. You will feel lost in unstructured expectations and crushed by promising ideas fallen to the side. Your expectations will fade into an unexpected reality. You will learn to celebrate small victories. You will look at mountains and see mole hills. You will try to tackle the impossible. Maybe you’ll succeed. Maybe you’ll just pick yourself up and take aim at another impossibility.

You will learn to do all of this through pure self-motivation. You will be the one to drag yourself out of bed and out the door. You won’t have anyone holding your hand or pushing your forward. Just you. You will become a stronger person for yourself, by yourself.

You will be a celebrity in your community. That status comes will hardships and benefits that will ineradicably change you. You will be the exception to the societal rules. You will be the foreigner, the one set apart. You will receive privileges and have special attention/status because of your nationality. You will always have eyes on you. You will have joined as an agent of culture exchange and understanding, but you will still find yourself falling into an ‘us versus them’ mentality. Use it. Consider it. Contemplate the value we place on people because of arbitrary characteristics. You will come away from your experience more attune to your own merits, to those that are deserved and to those that are given.

Your culture of personal space, one that maybe you have always taken for granted, will be challenged. You will wonder why you need an entire room to yourself while no one else even has a bed to himself. You still won’t want to give your room up. Privacy will be a privilege or a rarity, not a right.

You will lose all control of your emotions and be on an unpredictable roller coaster of extreme ups and downs. You will go from happy and confident to sullen and tearful by things as simple as ants in your candy or yet another child saying ‘Hello!’ Your highs will be high, but they will be fragile. Your lows will feel inescapable. Your family and friends in the States probably won’t understand this. Your isolation will force you to become your own support system. You will become aware of yourself in the context of solely being yourself.

Your government-issued friends will be your reprieve. The love and closeness you share with people back in the States won’t change, but it will be your fellow volunteers who understand. They will be friendships forged from necessity, and they will be deep and fervent.

You will witness a whole new way of life, and you will question your notion of necessity. You will consider your personal wealth, and people will constantly remind you of it. You will discover what your ‘needs’ are to live a productive, satisfied life. I hope you will remember that when you return to a culture of plenty.

You will be the biggest product of your Peace Corps work. You will change. And you will bring that change back with you."

Best part of Peace Corps trainings!

One of the best parts about going to trainings is Peace Corps brings a projector with them and are always kind enough to give us access to it after hours. There have been many fun movie nights as a result. During my previous week's training, someone had UFC 155, so a small group of us watched it in our own private "theater". Pretty nice set-up!

Best beer slogan ever?

This week, I was in the magical and wonderful world of Addis. I had fried chicken with curly fries, eggplant pizza (holy cow!), cheese omelets, t'ibs,  and calzone. I went to a brewery and had delicious Amber beer on tap and cheers'ed with a priest who was drinking and spreading the word of god all at once. I saw a movie in a nice theater complete with popcorn and a soda. It was a great two days. While there, I happened to see what I think may be my favorite billboard. I want to drink with those old guys, but I am positive I am not cool enough.