Harar

With only a week left in Ethiopia and access to fast internet, I have a bit of a backlog of entries to pump out. Get ready! Recently, with five friends, I went to a town called Harar. Look it up, it is awesome. It was probably my favorite place in Ethiopia. It represented all my favorite parts about this culture without the negative things.

Basically, "for centuries, Harar has been a major commercial center, linked by the trade routes with the rest of Ethiopia, the entire Horn of Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, and, through its ports, the outside world. Harar Jugol, the old walled city, was included in the World Heritage List in 2006 by UNESCO in recognition of its cultural heritage. According to UNESCO, it is 'considered the fourth holy city of Islam' with 82 mosques, three of which date from the 10th century and 102 shrines".

A view of part of the city.

The guest house we stayed at for part of our trip

Hawks diving in for some meat. They could also catch some from midair.

We went to an Ethiopian Premiership football game. Team Harar vs. Team Bunna.

One of the many markets.

Jebena market

Street food!!

One of the biggest draws about Harar is you can feed hyenas... if you're a crazy person. 

We visited some rural towns in the area. The kids were pretty cute!

Camel market

Lisa with a camel (both of whom are smiling)

After we saw the camels, we ate come camel. When in Harar!

10 Things I'll Miss About Ethiopia

Being an Authority On Everything

Being an American, there is a strange and inaccurate perception that I know everything… Teachers and people all around town will seek me out to ask me questions I cannot even begin to answer. More serious questions like, “What is the role of a teacher within the Ethiopian context?” or “How can Ethiopia pull itself out of poverty and become a rich country like America?” are not that fun. I have become skilled at talking for five minutes without actually saying anything of substance. I can sidestep any question with the inquisitor walking away thinking I was genuine, thorough, and respectful in my response. But sometimes, being the authority is awesome. The best example was when my friend Tilahun bought a refrigerator. His wife tried making ice cream and finally felt she has a great recipe. She invited myself and one other PCV over because, “we know what good ice cream tastes like and can give feedback”. Anything to serve my country!

Rain Means No Work

Rainy season goes from April to October. There are some short breaks during that period and some storms outside those months. When it rains, the streets become swamps and it’s a hassle to do just about anything. Because when it rains in Asella, it rains. Perhaps it will rain for 12 straight hours. Perhaps it will hail. But more often than not, it is just a torrential downpour like I have never experienced in my life. I remember hustling to my house one day because I could tell a storm was coming. Soon, I heard this deep rumble. I had no clue what the sounds was and had never really heard anything like it before. At that point, everyone on the street started running for cover. The sound grew louder and louder. It turned out to be the sound of rain pounding metal roofs and as it became louder, it meant the storm was inching closer and closer. When this type of thing happens, there is a cultural understanding that no one leaves where they are, all appointments are cancelled.  I drink cocoa and call it a day.

Acting A Fool

When I visited America last summer, I needed a haircut. As I sat in the chair with a woman behind me giving me a trim, a song popped into my head. Naturally, I just started singing it aloud. It took about five seconds to realize that A. breaking into song is not normal and B. the lady cutting my hair was staring at me strangely in the mirror. I have stopped learning how to censor my weirdness in Ethiopia and I like it. I have learned to embrace being different from everyone else in my town (probably a little too much). This means I will sing on the street. Have little conversations with myself. Say hello to animals. Stutter step around crazy people to confuse them. The worst is when I see someone I know while walking down the street. I cannot count how many times I have thought, “Oh no! Did 'blah blah blah’ see me doing something crazy?”

Zero cares about cleanliness

Once again, because I am so different, I can get away with doing anything. I have stopped caring about being clean. And this is not to say I am a filthy, stinky person. I never allow myself to get too dirty. But being clean and showering on a regular basis is no longer a priority. Wearing a shirt for five days in a row is standard. Baby wipes are good enough to pass for a decent shower. Ethiopians are not a dirty people. I am not modeling their behavior and my lack of cleanliness has no correlation to the level of cleanliness of people living here. It’s just me. I have no one to impress.  I have embraced that classic Peace Corps Volunteer stereotype.

Camaraderie and Uniqueness

It is fun to meet other Volunteers and reminisce about our different experiences. This can go two ways: 1. Meeting another Volunteer or expat in Ethiopia. There is an unspoken understanding that allows us to be friends. We have lived through a lot of the same things. These are the people that can understand my PC experience better than anyone back home will ever be able to no matter how much I try to explain. 2. Meeting another PC Volunteer who served in different country. We can be a world apart but our experiences are so similar. The issues we face, the way we talk, the acronyms we use all boil down to a sense of family, even if you’ve only just met him or her. It is a fun community to be a part of, and actually, only gets better once you leave.

Silly Ridiculous Stuff

One of the best parts about living in a foreign country is that it is well, foreign. Things happen that are so out of the ordinary you cannot help but laugh. When the little girl on my compound yells at a monkey because it is stealing food scraps, I love this place a little more. When I have to chase a chicken out of my house, it gets a little harder to leave. The other day, I was walking down my road. About 30 yards away, I saw a dog happily walking towards me. He had a little strut going and if a dog can smile, he was doing it. I watched as he came towards me with a smile on my own face. As he got closer, I noticed he had something in his mouth. Ah ha! This dog found some meat; it is a good day for him. As we crossed paths, we looked at each other. He didn’t exactly have a nice piece of meat in his mouth. It was a hoof. He was strutting by carrying a hoof in his mouth. That will never happen back in America, and it makes me a little sad.

Coffee

I have chronicled how much I love Ethiopian coffee. A majority of one of my suitcases will be coffee when I fly back to America. My goal for the next week is to see how much coffee the human body can withstand.

Lifestyle

I have mentioned in passing that I have not been able to do as much work as I would have hoped for due to a variety of reasons. There are some benefits to that though. I was able to read 50 books during the last two years. I watched some classic movies and TV shows. I travelled around midweek when there was no work. I sat at cafés for 2 hours on weekdays reading, simply because I could. I have had time to reflect on myself and my future plans. I have learned to find self worth in small little tasks. All these things would not have been possible had I been working a traditional full time job.

Generosity

I packed up my house 6 days ago. Once I did that, I was no longer able to cook any food for myself. I have not missed a meal. I have been invited into to people’s homes and offered as much food and coffee as I desire. This is just the latest example of two years filled with generosity. During my first three months, I lived with a host family who treated me better than I could have hoped. They welcomed me into their home and provided me with everything I could have needed. Upon moving to Asella, coworkers and strangers alike where happy to help in any way if it meant I would be more “settled in”. Friends like Abel and Tilahun have welcomed me into their homes and family more times than I can count. And truth be told, I am not that unique. Peace Corps Volunteers are not the only ones who get this generous treatment. Ethiopians share what they have with family, friends, and neighbors constantly and without thought.

Friends and family (Ethiopian and American)

One of the hardest parts of my entire Peace Corps service has been saying goodbye to so many different people over the last few weeks. For the Ethiopians here, it is pretty self-explanatory. They are amazing people and I will miss them. I owe my positive experience to them and they were the difference between staying and going. And though I am going back to America, in a weird way, I will miss the unique relationships I’ve had with family and friends while away. It will be amazing to see them in 8 days, but through the process of letter writing and monthly Skype calls, I feel like I have gotten to know a different side of a lot of people. When you are writing a letter, you have to fill up the space. If you don’t have a topic, you don’t know what might come out. And let me tell you, really interesting things come out.

Peace Corps Reading List

One of my personal Peace Corps goals was to read 50 books during my time here. That averages out to a book every two weeks. While it is not a break-neck pace, I am pleased to say I made it, just barely. It is a good thing Animal Farm is like 75 pages.

1.     Bossy Pants by Tina Fey

2.     The Best American Travel Writing edited by Bill Buford

3.     Long Way Down by Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman

4.     The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams

5.     The Devil’s Star by Jo Nesbo

6.     Sun Rise With Sea Monsters by Neil Jordan

7.     Life, the Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams

8.     Stiff by Mary Roach

9.     A Long Way Gone by Ishale Beah

10.  July, July by Tim O’Brien

11.  Sacre Bleu by Christopher Moore

12.  Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

13.  Going After Cacciato by Tim O’Brien

14.  What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murskami

15.  The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

16.  Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson

17.  The Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling

18.  Spice by Jack Turner

19.  Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? By Mindy Kaling

20.  My Life by Bill Clinton

21.  Eat, Love, Pray by Elizabeth Gilbert

22.  Nerd Do Well by Simon Pegg

23.  By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coelho

24.  The Zahir by Paulo Coelho

25.  Decision Points by George W Bush

26.  Mrs. Kennedy and Me by Clint Hill and Lisa McCubbin

27.  Long Way Around by Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman

28.  The Plague by Albert Camus

29.  Lucy by Donald Johanson and Maitland Edey

30.  3 Miles Per Hour by Polly Letofsky

31.  The Gunslinger by Stephen King

32.  So Long and Thanks for the Fish by Douglas Adams

33.  Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams

34.  The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

35.  The Wasteland by Stephen King

36.  Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein

37.  Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela

38.  Wizard and Glass by Stephen King

39.  Beneath the Lion’s Gaze by Maaza Mengiste

40.  Wind Through the Key Hole by Stephen King

41.  In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson

42.  Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King

43.  The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

44.  Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

45.  Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer

46.  Gandhi: An Autobiography by… Gandhi

47.  Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller

48.  Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer

49.  Machine Man by Max Barry

50.  Animal Farm by Orson Wells

Websitin'

One of my favorite projects I have undertaken in the last two years has been working on the Peace Corps Ethiopia website. Myself and three other Volunteers (seen working incredibly hard above) were the founding dream team responsible for creating and shaping this brand new website. It shares what PC Ethiopia is with the public and gives Volunteers in country every document and resource available.

In Ethiopia, progress is slow. In order to do anything, I normally need to meet with three or four different people. Then I need to get my plans stamped by some official who is inevitable out of the office. With the website, we decided to make something, and simply did it. If we wanted a page on Grassroot Soccer, we did it. There was no red tape and no purple stamp in our way. Instant gratification.

So if you’re curious, check it out. If you’ve ever had any questions about what Peace Corps Ethiopia is or does, all the answers are probably here,  http://www.pcethiopia.org/ 

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)

Menelik II, Former Emperor of Ethiopia

Haile Gebrselassie, Ethiopian running god

Jay Z

My father

Joe- as he was standing next to me.

Zach- as he was standing next to me.

Tolstoy

Shakespeare

Meles Zenawi, Former Ethiopian Prime Minister

George W. Bush

Obama- actually 75% of the time it is Obama

Two Years Later

June 6, 2014 marked the two year anniversary of my group coming to Ethiopia. It has been a long, awkward, hilarious, depressing, and wonderful journey. In honor of this momentous occasion, here is the first group photo of G7 waiting to board a plane to Ethiopia:

And on the last day of our close of service conference; our very last group photo.

 A lot smaller but a lot closer. In fact, probably too close.

Coffee Time!

I always imagined the end of my Peace Corps service as a relaxing time where I would enjoy and reflect on the last chapter of my adventure in Ethiopia. Turns out, I am ending my service with a sprint. Though I still have about two and a half months before I return to America, time is running out at an alarming pace. I am going to be away for the next three weeks doing (hopefully) fun things that I will be sure to report back to you with. In the mean time, I wanted to post something so I don’t feel guilty when it has been over two months with nothing for my adoring fans (and by that, I mean my mom). So, let’s talk coffee.

To say coffee, or buna, is important to Ethiopians would be a gross understatement. Buna in Ethiopia is a way a life. A tradition. You drink it when a baby is born, when someone graduates, when a couple gets married, when someone dies, and everyday in between. It is the number one export of Ethiopia and if you are a coffee drinker, you have had Ethiopian coffee. In fact, next time you’re in a Starbucks, look at the murals on the walls. There will likely be an Ethiopian buna ceremony pictured. I didn’t drink coffee prior to Peace Corps and I once joked that I was going to return to America a coffee snob. It happened. I regret nothing.

The tale of buna in Ethiopia begins in the south, generations and generations ago. A goat farmer grazed his herd all over the countryside. Ordinarily, the goats would munch on some grass and be content. But the farmer noticed, when he took his livestock to this one particular area, with this one particular plant, the goats would start acting crazy. They would suddenly become wild and unruly animals. One day, he noticed the goats were eating red berries. Assuming that was the cause of the goats acting so strangely, he took some home and had his wife cook them. They ate some and soon felt the kick of caffeine we all know and love. Eventually, people learned to process the plant to make the coffee we are familiar with today. This is the same story people tell in regards to how “chat” (a local drug where one eats the leaves to get a high commonly described as a mellower cocaine) was found. I don’t care if it’s true for one, both, or neither. It is a great story and I love it.

Today, Ethiopians drink buna multiple times a day. When a guest arrives or an important occasion occurs, it is tradition to have a formal buna ceremony. But formal or not, there is a special process to making buna. So while in America, you simply drive to Starbucks, here is how you brew buna in Ethiopia:

Step One: Wash those buna beans! They start off green and have a film over them. It is important to wash them, sort through to ensure there are no rocks pretending to be beans, and prepare them for roasting. It is common to put grass on the floor for a formal ceremony. I’m just realizing I’ve never actually asked why, but it is a sign that people are welcome in your home. 

Step Two: Roast those beans! Over a charcoal stove (yeah, just put that stove inside. A little carbon monoxide never hurt anyone), place the beans and keep them moving so they don’t burn. It is a fine line between perfection and burnt that I’m still hoping to master. 

Step Three: Heat that water! Ok, the exclamation point on that one may have been overkill. Buna is brewed in a clay kettle called a jebana. The jebana is probably the most distinguishable thing in Ethiopia. It is unique to this country and may as well be on the flag. Every home has at least one and it is my favorite souvenir I am bringing home (aside from actual beans).

Step Four: Pound that buna! Now that the beans are roasted, use a mortar and pestle to take out all your frustrations of the day. This is the part that forenjis are often allowed to do. For about 30 seconds. Ethiopians are all about culture sharing, but not at the cost of ruining perfectly good buna.

Step Five: Make that buna! Put the grinds into the jebana and let it brew. This part should be vaguely familiar. Just pretend that jebana is a French Press. I struggle with how long to let it brew. Ethiopian women have a sixth sense about it. The rest of us have to guess by the smell and steam.

Step Six: Drink that buna! Yeah, this is the best part, by far. Ethiopians put traditional stuff in their buna like sugar and milk. Sometimes though, they add butter and salt. It is not a strange as it sounds actually. During a buna ceremony (formal or not), you normally drink three of these small cups (called a sini). They use the same grinds for all three sinis so each one decreases in strength. This does not mean they get weak. The third or fourth sini is close to American strength coffee. It is not uncommon to drink 5-6 sinis of buna a day. On holidays, that easily jumps to 10-15. And don’t be fooled by the small size- it is closer to taking a shot of espresso than a shot of coffee.

This is how I became a snob. My relationship with the glorious beverage started with it being freshly roasted and brewed in front of me. There is no going back when that is how it starts. And the buna ceremony is such a sensory experience. You can see the glowing embers of the charcoal stove; hear popping as the film jumps off a bean; smell the smokiness envelop you; feel the room grow warmer; and finally, taste the product of all that work. There are some things I will struggle to adjust to in America. Buna is near the top. It is not just the quality and taste. I will miss the tradition, the feeling, and the heart of a buna ceremony. So while I’ll soon be able to conveniently go to Starbucks in America, there will always be a part of me that knows I'm sadly just getting coffee, not buna.