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.

Ras Dashin: The Summit!

At 4:15am, the alarm sounded. I rolled over, and tried to punch it off. But the damage was done; I was awake and excited to start the day. The day! We had a quiet breakfast and left camp at 5:00am. The first hour and a half felt like slow going. It was hard to see progress in the dark. It was so cold that my lungs burned. I was tired in every possible way. And it seemed as though we had to stop every 10 minutes for a bathroom break. If nothing else, we Peace Corps volunteers are regular.

Little by little, we made it closer and closer to the top. The higher the elevation, the more often we (I) needed to stop for breaks. It was a funny mindset that day. As we hit late morning, I thought, surely we must be close. There was no need to ask Dajin how much further. I could simply look around and still see land masses much higher than me. “At least that much farther,” I told myself.

The further up when went, the stranger the surroundings. It was like walking on the moon. There was no noise. There were strange rock formations. It felt so foreign and alien. This bizarre atmosphere was aided by the lack of oxygen. While the summit is only 15,000 feet, we could really feel it. We all became extremely tired. On one break, Zach and Michael appeared to take a little nap. I kept seeing black birds fly through my peripheral vision. Then I realized it was just black spots, there were no birds around. Being at that elevation and knowing the struggle it took to get there made me amazed at one thing: people climb Mt. Everest. They climb almost double what I had done.  There is no way there is oxygen that high. I have heard stories of people on Everest having full, two-sided conversations with the dead bodies they pass. I get it. Your mind gets loopy. And the elevation I was at does not even compare to Everest. For the rest of my life, I will appreciate every documentary on Everest. It is the pinnacle of what the human body can achieve.  And in case you are wondering, I would rather cut off a toe than attempt it.

So what did it feel like to look up at the summit and know I would be there shortly? A little bit anticlimactic. Of all the sights, all the beauty through the previous days, we all stared at Ras Dashin and thought, “This is it? Really?” It was a ridge that looked like dozens of others we had passed.

This is not to say we did not appreciate it. It was an amazing feeling. Every step truly felt like progress with our goal so close.

The last 10 minutes were “scrambling”. I did not know this term. I think it means having to use your hands to climb. But it was not climbing in the sense we needed rope for safety. As some who climbed trees as a kid, this part was awesome. And going down was just a neat. We when got to the top, we cheered and enjoyed the moment. We spent about an hour on top of the mountain. We even ate some delicious pasta up there. Interesting, there were other ridges within view that almost looked like they were higher. Dajin assured us they were not higher, it is a common misconception.  
 

 

REPRESENT!

All that was left to do was retrace our steps and get back to camp. As we walked down and down, for about 5 hours, I became more and more impressed with myself for making it.  If I had to go back and do it all over again, I’m not sure I could. Through sheer stubbornness and will power, I pushed myself to go further than I thought possible. The sights going down were amazing, perhaps more than the summit itself.

As we arrived back at camp, all the staff and a few people who lived in the area sang congratulations to us. It was a pretty inspiring feeling that left me a little choked up. After walking for 12 hours, with blisters on my feet, every muscle sore, sunburned face and hands, dirt caked on more dirt, those people singing, “Welcome, Ras Dashin. Welcome, Ras Dashin” and handing us flowers was the perfect culmination of the experience.

We celebrated like any good group of Americans would: whiskey and s’mores! We sat around the campfire and even walked Dajin through his first s’more.

Eventually, the sensible ones went to bed (tomorrow would be a 3:30am wake up), leaving Joe, Michael, Zach, Yayu, and myself around the dying fire. We tried to have Yayu tell us stories, but he had drunk a fair share of t’ella while we were eating dinner.  Then, something interesting happened. Joe, Zach, and I all speak what I would call intermediate Amharic. Michael, being from a different region in Ethiopia, speaks Tigrinya. We asked Yayu if we really made it to the top because other ridges looked a little higher. He responded in Amharic. Joe, Zach, and myself all took the same meaning from it. There are three camps you have to stay at if you want to reach the summit of Ras Dashin in a day. We were not staying at one of the three. 

The Luttrulls would claim between our whiskey, his t’ella, and the language barrier, we misunderstood. But we all gathered the same meaning separately from each other. It became an ongoing joke that we didn’t really make it to the top. It all makes sense when you think about it. Everyone knows the tallest point in Ethiopia is Ras Dashin. And our guide made it very clear, we were climbing Ras Dajin, not Ras Dashin.  In actuality, I am pretty sure we made it to the top. But, honestly, I don’t think it matters. And it is a pretty hilarious thought, almost worth it, if we went through all of that and walked to the wrong ridge.

Ras Dashin: Day 3

I awoke the morning of day three and could sense the worst was behind me. I was feeling close to normal, and excited for the day. We would walk for about an hour uphill, six hours downhill, and finish with another hour uphill. During that time, there would be breaks for rest, pictures, and lunch. I was relieved to have a less strenuous day and Dajin assured me, the day would help me acclimatize. While I would not exactly called Dajin supportive, he told me stories of people having much worse cases of elevation sickness who made it to the top. I learned that elevation sickness is not a logical illness. Just because I was hit by it at 13,000 feet did not necessarily mean it would affect me at 15,000 feet. 

There were certain moments of the day, and of the trip, where it felt like we were as far from civilization as possible. Sitting on a ridge overlooking endless beauty, it was easy to forget this is routine for people. There was one such moment as we peaked after the first hour. We looked around at the skyline, mountains, and monkeys and felt so isolated. Suddenly, a shepherd and all his sheep appeared, knock us back into place. Just another day of work for this man.

Now, walking downhill for six hours felt like a huge relief at first. The further down we went, the thicker the air. Our muscles were given a reprieve. The day was a recipe for ease. But as we learned, walking downhill has its own set of problems. While we did not need to stop for breaks, we had to go extremely slow. The terrain was slippery gravel and it seems like every few minutes there was the familiar sliding sound of someone taking a spill. Most of the time, we were able to catch ourselves. Few true falls (that day, defined as ground/butt contact) occurred. But looking down a mountain and loosing your footing gives you pause to say the least. As I was falling asleep that night, I kept being jolted awake with the sensation of slipping. I mentioned this to Danielle the next day and she experienced the same feeling. Even still, I would not have traded it for uphill. 

At about 1:00, we arrived at a small town where we would eat lunch. It felt like being in an old western. I am sure to the average forenji coming through, the town might be a highlight of the trip. It felt like half the town came by to look at us. Adorable children with no pants yelled hello. But, I have seen enough children with no pants for a lifetime. It was nice to see a little town tucked away in the middle of no where but it was noteworthy for one reason: t’ella*. Yayu mentioned there was special t’ella sold in the town. Some of our group (mainly some of the boys) really wanted to try it. We bought a pitcher and all drank a bit. It tasted good, but one drink was enough for me. It was extremely thick and I questioned the cleanliness of the water used to make it. The pitcher was eventually finished and, perhaps as a result, Joe and Zach were extremely talkative for the next hour or so.

*T’ella is home brewed beer. It is very common throughout the country and you can count on drinking some every holiday. But this rural area was supposed to have a style of t’ella not found anywhere else in the country.

 

As we took a short break before the last hour of the day, Yayu showed off his jumping skills. He effortlessly jumped a six-foot gap and landed on wet rocks. This just simply added to the lore that was slowly becoming Yayu. He also encouraged Michael and Zach to give it a try. They made it with success, much to the chagrin of Dajin.

Once we arrive to camp, we cleaned up and ate dinner. We stayed up talking for quite a bit. We would be at that campsite for the next two nights and luckily, it was fairly warm. We were able to enjoy the evening without being wrapped in blankets. We called it a night and enjoy some sleep knowing the next day was Ras Dashin: the top of Ethiopia.

Ras Dashin: Day 2

We woke up bright and early on the second day of our trek to find frost on the ground and breakfast waiting.

I felt significantly better than the previous night. There were certain points throughout the evening that I was genuinely concerned I would not be able to continue the next day. While there were mules for rent and I would not be stranded, I didn’t want to be left behind and miss out on the adventure.  During the day, I took a steady stream of pain medication in hopes to quell the headache before it began. I also wore a hat with a scarf wrapped around it, which kept as much sunlight out as possible. This is also why from here on out, it looks like I’m wearing a hijab in every picture.

The day started off fairly well, but I still felt a little off from the headache. I tried to persevere through, not realizing this would be the best I felt all day. We headed uphill towards a peak that had spectacular views. At about 13,000 feet, it was highest any of us had ever been. We walked to a ledge that overlooked miles and miles of rolling mountains and from there, topped a “little” mountain. 

 

It was around this time that I started to feel horrible. While my headache did not come back, I began feeling nauseous, light headed, and tired- like I could have sat down right there and gone to sleep. Turns out, I was suffering from elevation sickness but at the time I didn’t realize it. My pace considerably slowed but I tried not to say anything at first. I mentioned to Joe something was not right, but I didn’t know what it was. From there, we were walking downhill for a period. I assumed I would start to feel better as the walking became less strenuous. But that was the moment I knew I was in serious trouble.

We walked downhill for 30 minutes and I still felt just as bad. All my symptoms were getting worse despite the lower elevation and less taxing walk. Down, down, down we went and down, down, down I went. We reached the bottom and I looked up at one of the most looming sights I will ever see in my life. The next 3 hours of the walk were all uphill- serious uphill. Over the course of that time, we would gain something like 600 meters of elevation- just shy of 2,000 feet. I stopped in my tracks. Everyone knew I had slowed down, but I don’t think they realized how bad off I was. We took a break during which Joe gave me some motion sickness pills. We hoped they would curb the queasy feeling and after a while, they did just that.

Words cannot describe how I felt at that moment. Despite the lower elevation, I still felt like I could not breath. My body was so incredibly tired, more than it should have been given the amount of walking. The only way I can describe it is my body was shutting down. I have never experienced anything like it, and I hope to never again. As we started walking, I had to take breaks. It started as walk two minutes, and then sit. Walk one minute, and then sit. It got to a point where I told myself, take ten steps, and then sit. I made it seven. I remember thinking, “if I am feeling this awful at 13,000 feet, there is no way I can summit”. As if I was not going through enough, I started beating myself up over the whole situation: This is just cause I’m so out of shape. This is so embarrassing; no one else is struggling like this. I am slowing everyone down and they must be so annoyed with me. I paid all this money and I am going to fail.

At this snail’s pace, we eventually made it to the peak. We ate a late lunch and I was pretty quiet still feeling discouraged and embarrassed. I took some comfort in knowing that the rest would be downhill. But as we were walking the rest of the day, I started feeling better. Sure, the lower elevation and pills had something to do with it, but I owe my upswing that day to the five fellow volunteers on that trip.

Despite what was going on in my head, never once did any of the PCVs say anything that was not supportive. I apologized for slowing them down and they wouldn’t hear it. They all to me this was hard stuff and I was sick yesterday. They told me to stop worrying about everything; it was kicking their butts too. They all waited patiently. Any time I needed a break, they never once complained. In fact, more often than not, someone simply said, “Good! Me too!” They made jokes that had me laughing and soon enough, I felt much better. I was even able to start enjoying some of the scenery again.

These special trees only grow at an elevation that makes your lungs hurt- around 3,800 meters (12,500 ft.) I’m not sure I’d recommend seeing them. Also, there were tons of monkeys that had pretty amazing camouflage. That is not a rock it in the middle, it’s a monkey!

Joe, Yayu, and Zach. The phrase “it is cold” in Amharic is extremely similar to a dirty phrase in Amharic. It became an ongoing joke to try to say the dirty phrase as often as possible without laughing. Dajin did not enjoy this game. Yayu loved it. In this photo, instead of saying “cheese”, Joe and Zach said the dirty phrase. Yayu’s face is priceless.

While I was still feeling bad, the last few hours of the day were enjoyable. The sights were beautiful. My mental state picked up. I realized it was elevation sickness and there was no reason to beat myself up about being slow. And Joe, Michael, Zach, and the Luttrulls kept being nothing but supportive.

When we got to the campsite, I felt an incredible sense of accomplishment. Throughout the day, every part of me wanted to stop. Every step was a struggle. But I did it. I made it. At that point, I felt, ironically, invincible. If I could make it through that day, there was nothing that could possibly stop me. I may be slow, but I will get there. The next day would be mostly downhill and the extra day would give me time to acclimate to the elevation. As we sat around that night eating dinner and playing games around the campfire, I knew that no matter what happened, I felt a sense of pride in myself that was worth the journey. Looking back, that was definitely a turning point in the trip for me. No matter how hard it got, I knew I could keep going.

After two days of misery, it all goes up from here (pun intended)

Ras Dashin: Day 1

It was really happening, we were setting out on an adventure that would take us to the top of Ethiopia. After a restful night of sleep, we all jumped in our mini bus and headed two hours away to the town of Debark. There, we all registered into Simien Mountains National Park, picked up supplies, and most importantly, met up with our guide and scout.

Our guide, Dashin or Dajin, would lead the way and ensure we made it to the top. He spoke great English and was able to educate us about the wildlife and flora in the park. Our scout, Yayu, would be responsible for keeping us safe, carrying the bag of whoever was the most tired (usually me), making us laugh, and being all around the coolest guy ever. He spoke no English.

As we finished up in Debark, some might say debarked from Debark, we piled back into the car and headed up an unpaved road to get to our starting point. I think it was around this time our guide and scout sized us up and made some assumptions about the trip. This was mostly due to Michael, Joe, and Zach having an epic tickle fight, nay, tickle war in the van. Dashin/Dajin tried to not acknowledge what was going on but I am confident he thought, “Oh god, I’m going to have to spend the next 5 straight days with these people”. Yayu on the other hand was giggling, and we all knew we were instant friends.

We arrived at our starting point- all excited to begin what, at certain points in the previous months, seemed like an impossibility. We unloaded our gear and organized a bit. We would carry daypacks with essentials- water, sunscreen, hats, etc. while the rest of it would be packed onto mules and taken to our campsites separately. In all, for six people to climb the mountain, it took one guide, one scout, three cooks, four mule handlers, and four mules. I still feel like it was a bit much, but we trusted they knew best.

As we started walking, we quickly came to a ridge that looked over a huge section of Simien Mountains National Park. The ridge must have been a 500-meter drop and made the whole scene more dramatic. Without a doubt, the view from that ridge is the most awe-inspiring thing I have ever witnessed. Layers and layers of hills and ridges going on for as far as the eye could see. The sheer vastness and beauty of it quickly silenced us all- a difficult task given the six of us. No one in the group had ever been to the Grand Canyon so no one could compare, but I suspect it is a much grander version of the US treasure.

We walked for the next few hours to our campsite for the night. We were moving at a pretty fast pace, as if Dashin/Dajin wanted to test our fitness levels. Fortunately, at some moments, the scenery was so incredible we had to stop to take some photos. I appreciated these views not only for their beauty but each of these places represent a spot where I was able to catch my breath.

Yayu is amazing and this photo with Danielle should be on every PC pamphlet

We eventually made it to the campsite, which overlooked a gorgeous golden valley. Not a bad place to sleep on my first camping trip ever.

One perk of the tour company we used was that everything was set up for us- all we had to do each day was walk. Upon reaching our campsite, all of our tents were set up and coffee, tea, and snacks were waiting for us. This particular night was not my favorite. If I am in the sun too much without taking certain precautions (hat and scarf to block out the sun), I get terrible headaches. Sure enough, I ended up with a miserable one. With the sun going down and the temperate getting frigid, I decided my day was going to end early. As everyone else was eating dinner and relishing the day, I was in my tent sleeping and hoping this would not be a pattern for the trip.

A few notes for going forward…

• Simien Mountains National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage site and everyone in the world should go there at some point in his or her life. Alright, that is unrealistic, but seriously, it is amazing. The Simien Mountains are a range of mountains often referred to as the “Roof of Africa”. In this range, there are some of the tallest mountains in Africa. So while Kilimanjaro in Tanzania is much taller, this is like a giant mountain plateau. The result is the terrain of this trip was crazy difficult.

Here is your average mountain. To summit, you need to climb up for however long it takes and then go back down.

Our mountain would be the fifth one from the left. All this is to say, in climbing Ras Dashin, the tallest mountain in Ethiopia, we also had to climb four other huge mountains just to get there.

• Everyone in Ethiopia pronounces Ras Dashin exactly how it appears to be spelled. Apparently, this is incorrect. It should be pronounce Ras Dajin. If you were to say it this way outside of the National Park, you would be laughed at (think of someone rolling their “r” in the word burrito for a full three seconds- that’s probably the equivalent). But our guide, literally named after the mountain, placed a great importance on the proper pronunciation. If we said it wrong, he would correct us with a lecture. It went as far as Joe was writing notes in a journal one day and Dajin looked over his shoulder and told him to spell “Dashin” the right way. It became an ongoing joke and resulted in most of us being afraid to say the name of the mountain we were climbing. And while it may sound reasonable, we were mispronouncing his name after all, it is worth noting he called Zach “Jack” for five days straight.

Ras Dashin- History and Friendship and Mountains, oh my!

A few months back, Joe Whelan called me with the idea of climbing the tallest mountain in Ethiopia. It was something he wanted to do before our service here ended and suddenly, time was closing in. He was looking for a group of around six volunteers to undertake this adventure with him.  Without giving it too much logical thought (i.e. am I really able to climb a mountain?), I agreed as long as it worked into my schedule. He rounded up an amazing group of people (Zach Morris, Michael Quiroz, Daniel and Danielle Luttrull, Joe, and myself) and worked out the logistics* for us all. 

*We are only allowed to leave our site during semester breaks, but all of our breaks were at different times. There was a small overlap, but with my parents and Zach’s sister visiting, it seemed as though there was no window for us to go. The trip went from a "go" to a "no" to a "go" to "who knows?" Eventually, Joe maneuvered everything and work it out, which was quite an impressive feat. Zach’s sister left Monday night and we left Tuesday morning. We returned back the next Monday afternoon and I picked up my parents late Monday night. We were cutting it pretty close (I was terrified of a flight delay that would leave me, and worse my parents, stranded) but it was the only time that worked. The trip wouldn’t have happened without Joe’s logistics work, which at certain points, I hated him for.

We flew from Addis Ababa north to the historical town of Gonder. We had the full day to explore and I had never been there before. Joe, Zach, and I opted to visit the Fasiladas Bath. It belonged to Emperor Fasiladas and it's one of the bigger historical draws in Ethiopia. During a religious holiday called Timket, they fill the bath with holy water and thousands of people celebrate by jumping in/getting baptized.  The holiday was only two days prior and we heard it was suppose to be pretty amazing while filled with water. 

 

The scenery was beautiful and made you feel like you were back in time. I always laugh to myself when I get the opportunity to see places like this- looking at a wall covered with roots that are older than the country I come from is a pretty incredible feeling.
 

While at the Bath, a theme that would follow through to the end of the trip started: the bromance of Joe and Zach. 

After the Bath, all six of us finally met up. Another great thing about Gonder is that it is home to one of the biggest breweries in Ethiopia and their main beer is named after the mountain we were about to climb- Ras Dashin. As a tribute, we may have enjoyed a few. We sat around talking and enjoying a beautiful afternoon. That time solidified what I already suspected, the trip was going to be a blast if for no other reason than the group of people going. Everyone was mellow, excited, and perhaps a bit nervous. Eventually, we went back to the hotel and pooled our money together because we still needed to pay for the trip. It was more 100's than I'll ever see in my life (irrelevant that they were birr 100's). There was a moment when we saw just how much money it was and jokingly toyed with the idea of skipping the trip and living like kings and queens for the next week in Gonder.

We came to our senses and told the tour guide to come over and pick up the payment. While this sounds simple, nothing ever is in Ethiopia. As we all sat around in one room, we realized we had never met the tour guide before. He came recommended, but we really knew nothing about him. And now, here we were with 30,000 birr all feeling sketchy. We devised a few ridiculous plans, including intimidation tactics, forgetting that our group would be best described as goofy and as far from intimidating as possible. Our tour guide was a nice guy who I would wholeheartedly recommend, but that moment in the hotel room was a little tense. I'm not sure I helped by asking how he was going to get all that money home, did he have a car? Yes. Did he have a gun? Laughter without an answer.

After what felt like a tense drug deal paying our tour guide, we all went to dinner and called it an early night...


There are just too many memorable moments for one blog; check back tomorrow for day 1 of the hike! 

Straight From the Horses' Mouths

I realize it has been a little while since there has been an update, but the last five weeks of my life have been crazy. I have done some amazing thing with many of my favorite people in the world. In the coming weeks, you can read all about them here (or not, do what you have to do) but in the meantime, I hope this special treat will hold you over.

As a thoughtful and entertaining Christmas gift for family and friends back home, a married couple from my group, Daniel and Danielle Luttrull, decided to make a podcast consisting of many volunteers telling stories from Ethiopia. The result is THIS. It is an honest look at life in Ethiopia. Some of the stories are heartwarming while others are silly. Download it all; give it a listen. And while it has an overall Christmas theme, the topic of all of our stories is good year around: things you never expected to happen in your life.

As a note, tracks 4, 6, and 8 have mild curse words if there are little ears around. And track number 2 is a hilariously thoughtful description of a former vegetarian witnessing/helping slaughter a goat for an Ethiopia holiday. If you are a bit squeamish, maybe don't listen to it while driving.

And if you want more, here are the personal blogs of some of the people you'll hear stories from. Enjoy!

Joel Miller (Track 2)
Sarah and Aaron Arnold (Tracks 4 and 5)
Joe Whelan (Track 7)
Daniel and Danielle Luttrull (Tracks 8 and 11 and your hosts for the hour)