Houston, we have a problem

Reflecting on my last blog, I was wrong. The biggest fear of any Peace Corps Volunteer is that our laptop will break. No more Internet at home, escaping for hours through movies and tv, or working out in the privacy of our home. I know this now because my computer died 36 hours ago. I have been going through the 5 stages of grief. But I keep reminding myself I'll be home in 82 days and can get it fixed then.

People back home have been helping me try to find ways to fix it from here. In my mind, this is exactly what it must have been like for the folks involved with Apollo 13. The impossible task of fixing something while being epically far away, with few resources. Sadly, I think they had a better chance of success than I do.

Anyways, thought I would post an explanation for the radio silence that will commence. I'll still post blogs, but any sort of bi-weekly photo is now impossible. I am going to read so many books in the next 3 months!!

(Perhaps annoying) reflection on the Boston bombings

Though they are rarely in the forefront of our minds, there are a few things that make a Peace Corps volunteer fearful. It is not about the food we have to eat knowing it will likely make us sick. It is not about the harassment we face daily. It is not about our personal safety and it is not about political happenings in country. One of the few things that make every volunteer fearful is the idea that something could happen at home while we are so far away. Car accidents. Illnesses. Death. And yes, some sort of major attack or event on US soil.

This past week, I cannot help but imagine what it must have been like to be a Peace Corps volunteer as major historical events unfolded. I had the good fortune to meet some folks who were volunteers in Ethiopia during the 1960’s. They all mentioned the lack of communication with home. Many of these people went an entire 27 months without talking to family and friends. They found it impossible to hear current news. One volunteer remembered hearing the Beatles for the first time and thinking, “These guys are pretty good” not remotely understanding their stardom.

So what was it like to be so passionately moved by the words of JFK, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country” that you move halfway around the world and then find out he has been assassinated? How long after his death did they finally hear the somber news? What was the experience of volunteers serving during September 2001? How could they not only believe this atrocity happened, but cope with it? I myself only received a minor minor taste of it. But being 9,000 miles from home and seeing footage of bombs exploding in my homeland was enough to make me never want to find out what those moments must have felt like.

I love America. It is a wonderful place and through its fault, I have a greater appreciate for it than I ever thought possible. I was allowed to enjoy my childhood by being able to act like a kid. I received a high-quality education affordably. I was able to pick my profession. I was able to move to Ethiopia simply because of the language I was taught as a child. A fellow volunteer once said,  “Peace Corps is about taking young idealistic people who think they know better than America and turning them into the most red-white-and-blue, flag waving, America-loving fanatics. Mission accomplished Peace Corps, I cannot wait to have yearly 4^th of July BBQs.

We are so incredibly lucky to live in a country where the bombings in Boston are national news because it happens so rarely. Where an entire city shuts down for a manhunt because no one is willing to let him get away with this horrific act. Where people come together, from all 50 states, to support brothers and sisters whom they will never meet. We are so incredibly lucky to be known as a country where this sort of thing does not happen. Where throughout the world, people living in violent countries send their prayers and condolences because they want to imagine America is a better place than this.

A young girl from Afghanistan shows her support to a family, thousands of miles away, who just lost an 8-year old boy

A card made by Ethiopian children in Bekoji mourning the lost of a child they have no practical reason to care about

Being a Peace Corps volunteer is about experiencing life through a different lens. It is about living as an Ethiopian for 27 months, learning their culture, and allowing that to influence you. As I reflected on the tragedy that transpired in Boston, I was surprised to find how my views have changed. The overriding theme I could not get out of my head was something that never would have occurred to me a year ago.

In the time since the bombings in Boston, there are have several similar instances of death and destruction around the world. In Iraq alone, the same day as the Boston bombing, there were 15 separate car bombings, which killed 55 people and injured 200 more. But things like that are expected to happen there, I suppose. The people in those areas are so numb that they no longer feel the heartache and loss. And as the world was focusing on our tragedy and Prime Ministers and Presidents from around the world denounced the appalling events in Boston, no one stopped to reflect that in our world, this is a terrifyingly common occurrence- just not in our country. 

Americans are dealing with their own grief and I have nothing but respect for that. But, under normal circumstance, I doubt these incidences would have elicited any response from Americans. Sure, there are always pockets of people affected, but for the majority of people in our country, these types of events go unnoticed. Class time in elementary schools will not be spent writing cards to children killed in countries where the phrase, “routine bombing” exists. No little girl in America will make a sign for the child in Afghanistan or in Iraq or in Pakistan or in… who was killed due to senseless violence.

Absolutely, take the time to mourn the lost of American lives. Allow yourself to feel saddened and angered by this cowardly act. But, if we can learn one thing from this, it is to appreciate the outrage you are feeling. Appreciate that you and your country are feeling this loss and pain so deeply. Appreciate the fact that you are not desensitized to this. But also, next time you are flipping through the news and you hear about mass casualties in country where violence is to be expected, take a second to feel that too.

Awkward Family Photo?

On Sunday, my landlady and her husband had a celebration after her son was baptized. It is Orthodox tradition to baptize a baby boy when he is 40 days old and a baby girl when she is 80 days old. Until then, mother and baby are secluded to their bed. People come to visit, but mom and baby are bound to the house. Needless to say, my landlady was pretty happy. They were kind enough to not ask me to go to church at 6am. Instead, I was just invited to eat and drink when they got home at 10am (awesome). 

At a certain point, a photographer came to the house to take "professional" photos. It quickly became clear things were going to turn into "Get Your Picture Taken With a Forenji" so I retreated to my house after taking pictures with the people I actually knew. I also lent someone my camera to take pictures with. While loading the photos onto my computer, I came across this gem.

There is so much gold going on in this photo that I could not help by proudly post it. Let me break this down for you.

• A photographer was posing people in the most bizarre ways all day. Besides this, my favorite was when one man used the pipe to do the "Captain Morgan" pose while another knelt down right beside him. He face was completely in the others crotch. No one laughed but me, oppps.  
• After this, they told me to put my sunglasses on. They believed it made me look more American or something (I think it is because when you are this cool, the sun shines on you 24/7)
• This is a woman who lives on my compound. She is not my favorite...
• I am at least 4 inches taller than her
• I'm pretty there is not a big age difference
• This "special area" is normally reserved for washing clothes and dumping out dirty water
• We are standing over where an old shint bet (hole in the ground for one-zies and two-zies) used to be. It has been long since concreted over but they need to ventilate the gas it produces. That pipe is to ventilate it. What I am trying to say is, it's a poop pipe
• My face perfectly captures how I am felt in this moment
• I literally volunteered for this

Best Texts

As I do from time to time, I am going to throw out the disclaimer that many PCVs are crazy, offensive, and probably drink too much. You cannot exactly be normal if you decide to work for free for two years in a country you have likely never been to. Once you are here, things only get worse. You lose all sense of tact and say things that you never would back home. I mention this because this blog shows how volunteers actually interact with each other. Be warned and if you don't like something you read, I tried to tell you...

This idea has been floating around with some other PCVs on their blogs so I thought I would take a crack at it. I feel confident that I bring out the worst in people and associate myself with horrible people (one of these is from an Ethiopian!) So, here it is, the top 15 texts I have received in the past month or so. They are in no particular order but seem to get more offensive and bizarre the further down you go. For the sake of suspense, I suppose I'll number them.

15. “I ran barefoot through glass to try to get a free ticket [to Addis], but it turned out to just be plastic”

14. “We are at the Harar place getting inappropriately drunk”

13. “Can you send me any bad words you know in any Ethiopian language?”

12. “Haha, ass tape!”

11. “Sorry, I’m a bad AA sponsor”

10. “Yesterday my habasha [Ethiopian] friend with limited English just kept telling me ‘shower’ over and over again. I bathed for the first time today in two weeks. So dirty.”

9. “I really hate this place right now”

8. “Yeah, they are changing our name to Gun Corps, per congress and Texas. You guys are the guinea pigs”

7. “Did you remember to bring your undies?”

6. “I’m practicing my jump kick, get ready…”

5. “It is my threeeeee year anniversary in drunks”

4. “Taco party may be this century’s greatest utterance”

3. “Oh god. 22 months and you think nothing can touch you. Until it penetrates your colon”

2. “How does one go about properly disposing of a plastic bag containing his or her own feces?”

 1. And the winner by a mile: “Hmmm. Beer and dinner vs. social life. I was suppose to go to a funeral”

I'm a GD mountain climber!

For the past few days, I have needed to go to the nearby town of Bekoji to do about 15 minutes of Peace Corps work. Bekoji is a small town about 45 minutes south of Asella. Mountains surround it and, as a result, it is pretty cold and has an elevation that makes me feel completely out of shape. The town is known for two main things: 1. Their water- it is bottled and sent throughout the country. 2. Their runners. If you know anything about Ethiopian sports, you know that this country produces great runners. Bekoji is where a majority of the runners come from. This little town has produced multiple Olympic gold-metal athletes. There is a runner culture in the town and if you can manage to wake up and get out of your warm bed by 7:00am, you can go to a forest and watch hundreds of young athletes train. The forest is a renown place were past and, likely, future Olympic gold medalists got their start.

Thursday morning, the honorable Joe Whelan (a volunteer who lives in Bekoji) called me to invite me down. He works with an NGO from time to time and they had a large group of Brits in. They were going to take a van up to one of the local mountains and then hike to the peak. There was one spot in the van left and if I wanted it, it was mine. Thanks to the relaxed Peace Corps lifestyle and workload, I was able to run over to my school, do a couple things and be on a bus to Bekoji by 11:00am. 

The plan was to meet the group outside of a hotel at 1:00. I arrived to Bekoji at about 12:15 and went to Joe’s house. We needed to eat lunch so we went right to the hotel and ordered a tagebeano and Coke each. At 12:40, Joe received a call saying they were ready to go. They arrived 5 minutes later, right when our food arrived. One person came out of the van and said they were going to leave in 30 seconds with or without us. Now, some key points:

• Neither Joe nor I had eaten all day. The hike would be about 3 hours. To do that on an empty stomach would have been a miserable and grumpy time.
• Tagbeano is delicious. But it is served scalding hot and is the consistency of refried beans.
• It is impossible to even get the bill in 30 seconds in Ethiopia.

We got the people to agree to wait until we had at least paid for our food: approximately 3 minutes. In those three minutes, we had to eat as much food as we could possibly shove into our mouths. My entire mouth was burned, I could not taste the food and pounding bites of something like refried beans wrapped up in a thin sponge (injerra) is not a pleasant experience. Thankfully, we have now been in country for 10 months and if there is one thing a PCV learns, it is how to eat. If you ever travel and happen to see PCVs at a buffet, sit back for a show- you are about to see something special.

Joe and I finished the meal in three minutes flat and then ran over to the van. The motion of running made me realize what a terrible idea the last 5 minutes of my life had been. I could feel a pound of heavy food in my stomach. I was about to go on a three-hour hike. No good could come of this, but like a true Peace Corps Volunteer, I persevered hoping this would not be the day I became a “real Peace Corps Volunteer”* Fortunately, the Gelama Mountain Gods were kind, and we suffered no ill effects.

The hike itself was amazing. Without question, is was one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen in my life. As we started walking, we first had to climb up a hill. While that does not sound difficult, anything at an elevation of 8,000 feet is a challenge. This is where we got the first view of the valley we would walk through and the surrounding mountains.

Joe refusing to get out of the way for my picture.

The valley was probably ¾ of a mile across. We had a guide with us and he pointed out the wildlife in the area. The majority of what we saw were various breeds of deer. In the nearby hills, there are two or three panthers that roam freely. There is also rumored to be a cheetah of some sort, I am not convinced of that. The terrain was flat but it was a bit swampy. I probably have shisto now, but that is easily treated and a good illness to put on your Peace Corps Bingo card! 

Another form of wild life in the area are hyenas. They dig huge holes in the ground (one might call it a den) and come and go from it as they please. We saw a ton of these holes and they were huge. It is not uncommon for a hyena to be the size of a donkey. I could easily have fit in this particular den.

As we finally started really hitting some steep parts, I started taking more pictures. There were about 12 people in our group and I think everyone was a bit too prideful to stop to take a breath.  I fell right into this. I am a Peace Corps volunteer. I have lived here for ten months. I am used to this elevation. I cannot let some Brits who are here for a week show me up. So stopping to take pictures became a good excuse to rest and still have my pride. 

I did make it to the summit. Here I am at 11,400 feet. 

The part of this that I am most proud of is if you notice my footwear. For all the people who like to mock me for my love of sandals and flip-flops (I am talking to people back home and other volunteers here in Ethiopia), I climbed an MF’ing mountain in sandals. I should be on a Chaco’s commercial.

The people we were with asked if Joe and I wanted a picture together on the mountaintop. We looked at each other, laughed and said no. As you may be able to imagine (especially if you have ever talked to me on Skype) the longer you are here, the more cynical you become. We definitely had some laughs at the greenness of the Brits. And when they offered to take the picture, there was a bit of a “we’re pretty cool and can just come back here so we don’t need a picture” attitude. Once we got back to Joe’s, I looked at all the pictures he had around his room. There is a spot for photos of him with his PCV friends. I gave him a hard time because I was not up there. We decided one of us would print a picture the next time we were at a photo shop to put up. It was this moment that we realized we did not have a single picture together. We had just had this wonderful day and hike and the picture of us on the mountaintop would have been perfect, but we were too cool to take it. We had a laugh, but it was a good realization that we shouldn’t always be such cynical a-holes. Even though we like to think ourselves far better than tourists, we wont be here forever.

View from the top…

After a long and steep trek downhill (I did not fall once, it was redemption for the embarrassment that was my last hiking experience), we made it back to the van and headed for the NGO. I only feel comfortable taking this shot at the Brits cause they took a shot at me being America: They brought candy for the local kids and were kind enough to offer Joe and I some. I started laughing uncontrollably and took a picture of it. I have never seem anything so British as this candy. If Doctor Who ate these while listening to the Beatles in front of Big Ben, it would be on their national flag.

*There are many sayings in the PC that pertain to particular regions. For example, you are not a real PC Mongolia volunteer until you start smoking just for the warmth. And, more aptly, you are not a real PC Africa volunteer until you soil your pants.