Ras Dashin: The Final Day

On the very final day of the hike, I knew I would have no troubles. I knew it was going to be the easiest day. Our route was the exact same as day three, except in reverse. Remember the day we walked downhill for six straight hours? Now we were walking uphill. And to top it off, we had a deadline that day in order to make it back to Gonder before nightfall. We had to walk over twenty kilometers (12-13 miles), most of which were uphill, all by 2:00 in the afternoon. Now, if you have read the blogs leading up to this, you may be thinking I am crazy. With how much I struggled, there is no way I should be so confident. But I had a secret weapon on the last day: Phil.

They had these helmets that were so small, they looked just like baseball hats. Amazing!

The pervious day, Danielle and I decided we were going to rent mules for the day. We had already reached the summit, and neither of us felt like there was a need to put our bodies through another day of torture. We left camp at 5:00am and had to walk the first section. With darkness and uneven ground, it was not safe to ride the mules yet. During that hour, I felt great about my choice of renting a mule. My legs were stiff and blisters on the back of my heels had become open wounds. No regrets.

The day was wonderful for Danielle and I. We were able to see the beautiful scenery with the added incentive of being able to breath!  I know, we were pretty spoiled. We went ahead of the rest of the group and met back up at the small town we ate lunch in a few days prior. Once the group met back up, Danielle and I learned Joe was struggling pretty mightily. He was having some stomach issues that left him weakened and dehydrated. I gave him an ORS (oral dehydration salts) and hoped he would get better. While we were breaking, we attracted some adorable attention. 

The sign of the café we rested at.

The next few hours passed by without problem. Danielle and I were meandering with the mules while the boys struggled up the mountain. We would gain 1,200 meters (around 4,000 feet) of elevation during the day. Phil was more than up to the task.

My wonderful view for the day

About an hour from the top of the mountain we needed to get over, Dajin came to Danielle and I. He said Joe was now struggling with elevation sickness. Danielle and I both offered up our mules immediately. Phil was eventually selected to go save Joe. He was a little more sturdy and, having experienced elevation sickness myself, it felt right to help Joe anyway I could. I had to walk the next 25 minutes and during that time I came to a serious conclusion: the $13 it cost to rent Phil for the day will be the best-spent money of my life.

John Cena is HUGE here

We all met up on a road with only thirty more minutes of uphill walking for the rest of the trip. Well, uphill for some. Joe, Danielle, and I muled it. Joe rented a mule for the last bit, but Sammy was not nearly as sturdy as Phil. Danielle and I went ahead, reached our destination, and then waited for Joe and the rest of the gang. We spotted Joe pretty quickly because he looked so awkward. As he came closer, the mule somehow got smaller and smaller. I am confident Joe was bigger than Sammy. There were a few hairy moments where I thought they were going down. But without incident, we all made it to the top.

After saying goodbye to our mules, we finished the last hour downhill. Joe was still feeling the affect of the sickness. I felt terrible knowing exactly how he felt. I had tried to explain the feeling to him on day two, but could not find the words express it. As we finished, he looked at me and said something like, “I get it now.” We discussed the amazing feeling of your body shutting down. How scary it was and how trapped and vulnerable it leaves you. While I would not have wished anyone to feel what I had felt, it was interesting to have someone to talk to who understood. 

A little before 2:00, our van and finish line were in sight. Joe, Daniel, Danielle, Michael, Zach, Yayu, Dajin, and I all grabbed hands and finished linked together. Before we reached the van, we all put our hands in for a Little League style cheer. The perfect ending.

We had a few hours in the van. After a little napping, we all gathered around Zach's ipod and watched The Lion King. It was a surreal moment to look at six twenty-somethings, dirty and smelly, glued to a four inch screen and singing along with Pumba while in Africa.

We eventually got back to the hotel and were able to shower for the first time in five days, yikes. I have never been so dirty and gross in my life.

Don’t think I look so bad? Here is what happened when I moved some bracelets I had been wearing on the trip.

Afterwards, we all separately came to the same conclusion: that five-day hike was a microcosm of our entire Peace Corps service. It was hard. One of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. At times, I hated it. I forgot why I was doing it. I just wanted it to be over. I just wanted to be comfortable, and in my own element again.  Much like Peace Corps, there were two things that got me to the top of that mountain and back.

Comradery

We were in this together; the highs and low, through it all. When I was sick, everyone supported me and helped me through. When other people struggled, I was there for them. That is one of the main unspoken roles of a PCV, supporting each other.

I was riding on a bus once and there was a man sitting too close to me. He put his hand inappropriately on my leg. I politely moved it away and that was it. Later, as we were stopped in another bus station, a man came and began to rub my new, fresh-faced sitemate’s leg. I almost ripped his head off. It is one thing to do something to me, but you do not mess with another volunteer in my presence.

During it all, no matter how much one of us were struggling, we knew we could count on each other. If we needed a break, we simply had to say so. When we needed more water, it was as easy as just asking someone. What is mine is yours and yours is mine (dirty PC communism). We started this as a group and we are going to finish this as a group. The fact we ended hand-in-hand is no coincidence. Had I gone on that trip with strangers, I never would have made it. The people on the trek made the trip for me.

Sheer stubbornness and pride

While some parts of the hike were easier than other, that should not be confused with some parts were easy. Every step was a struggle. I had illnesses. I had blisters. I was sunburned and dehydrated the whole time. Even when we walked downhill for a day, there were new struggles. And the morning after walking downhill, I was perhaps the sorest I have ever been in my life. There was no reason to go through it all. It was voluntary after all. 

I remember being at a training one time and talking with my fellow volunteers about what keeps us here. One answer stuck in my mind. The person said, “I don’t want to deal with the question, ‘I thought you were suppose to be gone for over two years. What happened?’” It is such a simple and possibly silly reason to stay, but that has held us all here one time or another.

I decided I was going to do this and I am going to finish through. I want to look back and know I was stronger than it. I want to be able to tell people all about this experience and not end it awkwardly, feeling like a failure despite my accomplishments. I want to take pride in the fact that when faced with something incredibly hard that I did not have to do, I still did. I want to have confidence in the future that nothing can stop me. 

Ras Dashin or Peace Corps, it is all kind of the same.