9000MilesFromNormal: Frank

I realize that people who read this blog may be strangers so allow me to inform you of a poorly kept secret: I have tattoos. They are in highly visible places and have had a fairly large effect on my Peace Corps service.

When I was applying to Peace Corps (what feels like a million years ago), they asked if I would be willing to “modify my appearance” during my service. While I like to think this relates to getting cornrows last year, it was a polite attempt to talk about my tattoos. I replied that as a teacher, I am very much used to wearing long sleeves. That seemed to satisfy my recruiter. As I packed to come here, I made sure that I had a lot of sweaters, jackets, and other items that would hide tattoos. When I was interviewed for what type of town I would want to live in for two years, I told them they better put me somewhere cold, otherwise the tattoos are coming out.

When I attend Peace Corps trainings, I try to look professional and cover up my tattoos. Once, my program director (an Ethiopian) pulled me aside to talk about how my tattoos might offend people in my town and they could never been seen.

But here is the truth about tattoos in Ethiopia: people here love them. They love them so much that I often keep my arms covered because if people see them, they want to rub my skin. Little kids will touch my arms and then look at their fingers to see if the ink ran onto them. I would wager that when I walk in Addis with my tattoos showing, someone comments on them once every two or three minutes. I recently took a trip to a hot town and while walking around, my arms were touched by a stranger every 60 seconds.

Many Ethiopian women from rural towns have tattoos as well. It is believed to help with illnesses and is always religious. The most common tattoos are small dots running across a woman’s chin line, or a cross on the forehead. Some of my favorite cultural memories have begun with comparing tattoos with 60-year-old women. All tattoos here are black. So not only are the style and placement of my tattoos completely foreign, the vibrant colors are a huge novelty.

But, there is one tattoo in particular that is my favorite in the Ethiopian context. It is the one I am so thankful I got before I came. It has brought me unspeakable amounts of joy. It is an ongoing joke with a majority of people I know. That tattoo is Frankenstein on my left forearms, or Frank, as he is lovingly referred to as.

Why is this my favorite? Because no one here knows who it is. But they guess anyways. If they don’t guess, I make them. And the result always brightens my day. Here are some of the people he has been mistaken for (and I 'm forgetting a ton)