The Day I Ate Everything…

            Happy New Year or Malkom Addis Amat! Tuesday was the Ethiopian New Year and I rang in 2005 pretty well! Yep, 2005! I’m in high school again and Brad and Jennifer are still together. Oh, what simpler times! Ethiopians do not use the Gregorian calendar and are oddly boastful and proud of this fact. I love living in a country that takes pride in being seven years behind the rest of the world.

            Since it was my first holiday in Ethiopia, I did not know what to expect or even if I would get to experience a traditional holiday since I do not know many people in Asella yet. As it turned out, I got perhaps too much traditional holiday experience. I will explain the day in detail but the main take away is that Ethiopian holidays seems just like American holidays- you are obligated to see a ton of people and by the end of the day, you cannot move you are so full of food.

            My day started at 9:00am. Well, that is not entirely true. My day started at 6:30am. I awoke to Ethiopian music blaring and the sounds of little girls going from compound-to-compound singing songs for people. I would like to say I eagerly got out of bed to experience this adorable tradition, but at 6:30 in the morning, sleep trumps culture. I threw in some earplugs and eagerly fell back asleep.

            Anyways, at 9:00 I arrived at my counterpart’s house. My counterpart is this fantastic woman who is the head of the English department at my school. She was charged with the task of being my… well, everything until I finally figure things out on my own. She warmly invited me to her house on New Years for breakfast and I shared the meal with her family. When I entered the house, I was instantly given a full glass (Ethiopian hospitality dictates a glass must be poured to the brim- practically overflowing) of tella. Tella is like an Ethiopian home brewed beer. Just about every house makes their own and my counterpart’s is absolutely amazing. We sat down to breakfast, which was more like a feast. The meal consisted of many traditional Ethiopian foods. So at 9:15 in the morning, I found myself eating dorowot (a red, slightly spicy chicken stew), sigawot (similar to dorowot but goat instead of chicken), homemade cheese, chicken wings/legs, and hard-boiled eggs. Just a tip, when you see people eat hard-boiled eggs in one bite, you know it is a serious meal. By 10:00, I was absolutely stuffed. I stayed for a little longer and had coffee with the family. My counterpart and I then went to her mother’s house for coffee and bread.

            By 11:30, round one was done and I was heading off for round two. Luckily, I had a 30-minute walk ahead of me and was able to digest a bit of food. The second stop of the day was at one of the best homes in Asella. The family hosted a PCV named Lisa during the months of training, and Lisa and I were invited for lunch. Once there, we were given more tella and I finally had time to sit and settle into my food coma. Before long, it was time to eat again. Lunch was pretty amazing. They had killed and butchered a sheep the night before so it was as fresh of food as possible (as a side note, it was no small feat to avoid seeing an animal being killed in the days leading up to New Years). I was able to enjoy some t’ibs (as you may know by now, one of me favorite) and k’aywot (a spicy red stew made with sheep). After more coffee and tella, I was past the point of uncomfortably full. I was so full of food that I could not take a deep breath- there as not enough empty space inside me to allow my lungs to expand. That is serious-full. But, it was only 2:00 and there were more place to go and food to eat.

            Lisa and I departed and met up with married Asella volunteers, Joe and Kelly. They took us to a friend’s house where we were able to experience yet another version of the New Years. We happily spent the afternoon with Telahun, his wife and their two beautiful (and hilarious) daughters. When we arrived, we were given glasses of arake. Arake is the equivalent of Ethiopian moonshine, slightly like drinking fire but surprising good for digestion. To show what good quality arake it was, Telahun poured some on the floor, lit a match, and we all watched as it burned for a solid minute.  Unbeknownst to me, Telahun and his wife are some of the best cooks in the world. For second lunch, we had kitfo (raw meat, mixed with butter and spices [fun fact: arake kills any worms you can get by eating raw meat!]), k’aywot (amazingly good, I could eat their k’aywot everyday and be happy), and homemade cheese that was a lot like ricotta. My only regret is that I was only able to eat one plate. We again had coffee and slipped back into the daylong food coma.

            We said our thanks and left Telahun’s house at about 5:00. The last stop of the day was to Girma’s, a local hang out with wonderful owners. We somehow managed to walk there (I suspect it was closer to a roll) and shared some tella with Girma himself and his wife. We stayed for a while and had a great time. Towards the end of the night, Girma and his wife came out with a huge plate of food. Although we had not eaten in 4-5 hours, we were all still stuffed. We ate some food but it was apparently clear we were just eating to be polite. Girma did not like that. As is Ethiopian culture, if someone is not eating properly, feed him or her! It was the only “gorsha” of the day. It started out reasonable. He would hand feed us each, in turn, small bites. But one thing to know about Girma, he is a funny man. By the end, he was feeding us handfuls of food so big, it was nearly impossible to fit it all in our mouths. Remember when you would (or still do, let’s be honest) spray whip cream in your mouth but you would spray so much you could not really close your mouth? That is pretty much what it was like. Except instead of whip cream, it was injerra and some sort of wot. To make matters more difficult, we were all laughing hysterically and could hardly eat anyways.

            The day was a fantastic time filled with good people and good food. I really feel lucky to have been welcomed into so many homes and share the holiday with so many people. The day was a synopsis of Ethiopian culture. No matter who you are, there is also someone kind enough to invite you into his or her home and share what they have.

So all in all, 14 hours, 5 different houses, 4 giant meals, countless cups of coffee, and a solid amount of Ethiopian traditional drinks rounded out my first Ethiopian New Years. I’m just a little scared I set the bar too high for next year.  

The time they let riff raff into the embassy

            About three weeks ago, I was sworn-in as part of the newest group of Peace Corps Volunteers in the world (a title another group likely has by now). It was a very exciting time that was only made better by the struggles with which we all faced in order to be there.

            When you join the Peace Corps, it is 27-month commitment. There are three months of training and then two years of being an actual volunteer. When planning and envisioning what life will be like, most volunteers (myself included) glaze over the three months of training. It sounds like a relatively short amount of time and everything is taken care of for you. You live with a host family who cooks your meals, attend language/culture classes and receive technical trainings. What you cannot possibly realize until you are in the situation, is that it is truly some of the hardest times during a Peace Corps service.

            Every facet of your life is planned and taken care of with little to no regard of your actual opinions or feelings. It is ironically one of the most regimented experiences I can ever imagine going through. You eat when you are told, go to school when you are told and yes, I was even told, “go to bed” a few times. This lack of control, in addition to living in an entirely new place and culture, is enough to drive a person nuts.

            But, yet another thing you do not know before joining the Peace Corps is that the people you go through PST with will become family in a matter of weeks. While you start off as strangers, you grow together in the experience. Your highs become other people’s highs. Your lows are other people’s lows. You help each other out and build each other up because you are in it together. And the whole experience, though just 10 weeks, culminates into a party at the embassy.

            I mention the struggles not to sound like a martyr, but to give you a glimpse of what an incredible feeling it is just to make it to swearing-in. There you are, 9,000 miles away from anyone you have ever known as of 10 weeks ago, but you feel as though you are among family. Everyone is smiling and congratulating each other.  It is an exciting time. Before the reality of leaving each other and beginning this crazy journey takes place, there is this one-day that is just about celebrating getting through the (at times) horror of PST. Here are some picture commemorating the day!

We’re kind of a big deal!

Moment of truth!

Just me, the Ethiopian minister of education, the Peace Corps Ethiopia Country Director, and the US Ambassador to Ethiopia - your average Friday.

They don’t serve sushi for just any group!

And finally, a lot of happy people...

Strange Times

           In Ethiopia, one of the most important political events in the past 20 years happened about two weeks ago. The Prime Minister, Meles Zenawi, passed away. He had been the Prime Minister for decades and is greatly responsible for the economic growth Ethiopia has seen in the past 10 years. He started a 5-year plan, a few years ago, that aimed to improve just about every facet of Ethiopia and it is moving the country in a positive direction. As with any political figure, there were groups who adored him and others who were more critical. No one was quite sure what the response would be to his death but one thing was certain, it would be an interesting time to be in Ethiopia.

            From a personal standpoint, I had no idea what to expect in terms of a reaction from the people of Ethiopia. In my limited experience, it seems like most people are so caught up in the daily grind of trying to survive that there is no time to activity participate in politics. There are many people struggling but that is suddenly common around the world. The country has most definitely seen harder times and there is a resilient spirit here. But overall, working to feed your family and keep a roof over your head takes priority over everything else.

            To be here and see the reaction from the people has been an unique experience. When the news first broke, every where I went, people would ask me, “did you know that our Prime Minister died?” There was a definite sorrow that I did not expect, like it was a close and personal lost. In my lifetime, I have never experienced being in a country when an acting leader dies. I do not know if this is the normal reaction, but I was definitely taken aback. This was not some distant man who had only ever been in their homes through TV, this was the personal lose of an intimate friend. People were glued to the TV as all the stations aired various reports and histories of his life. Everyone was caught up in the moment. When his funeral was on TV, the country literally stopped. Coffee and food stopped being served. Merchant stopped selling. Everyone stopped to witness their Prime Minister’s last appearance. As an outsider, it was a surreal experience. I sat in a café, watching these people truly grieve.

            The following Saturday, some volunteers and I went to a nearby big city, Nazret, to pick some things up. As we were waiting for the Ethiopian who was going to show us around, we began to hear this rumble. We looked to our right and suddenly, there were 50 motorcycles riding down the street. The people on the back were waving flags and hold pictures of Zenawi. That was followed by hundreds of Bajaj’s (small three wheeled taxis), all of which had flags and pictures hastily strewn about them. There were a few full sized trucks equipped with large speakers in the back and men with microphone I can only assume talking of the Prime Minister. It seemed as though there were hundreds of megaphones, all fighting for the growing crowd’s attention. This rally came and went multiple times as we all stood back, taking it in. It was not as much a demonstration as a celebration. They were celebrating the life of Zenawi and all he had done for their country. I never felt unsafe or scared; it was simply the people showing their appreciation and love for a man they believe did so much for the country.

            I have been watching a lot of news reports lately and all of them still revolved around the Prime Minister. There have been rallies like this everywhere (including in Asella). People with flags and pictures showing their support to a man they never met. There was one lady that especially stuck me. She was probably in her 70’s and being interviewed as she paid homage during one such rally. I could not understand a single word she said, but she looked as if one of her children had just died. While it is typical human nature to ham it up for a camera (which there was plenty of), this woman clearly would have been behaving the same way whether she was in front of a camera, or at home by herself. You could just see that she remembered the times before Zenawi and the struggles she must have faced. She was openly weeping, uncontrollable, at the lost of the Prime Minster. I was so stuck. This is a man she had never met. Someone who realistically did not know she even existed. Yet her level of sorrow and grief was as though he was her family. While there were men and women beating their chest, holding candle light vigils and chanting his name, it is the image of this old woman that will stay with me.

            So no one is quite sure what the response will be from here on out, but one thing is certain, it is an interesting time to be in Ethiopia.

'Merica

Nothing makes you more patriotic than living in another country!!!!!

An Ethiopian Type of Day

I did not have much to do today, so I thought I would be a little productive and go around town taking some pictures to give you an idea of what Asella is like. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it was a rainy day so you cannot see the mountain backdrop Asella normally has.

I expected this jaunt to just take an hour or two, depending on if I got distracted at any point. It was a 4-hour adventure when it was all said and done. To begin, I stopped at a café to get some coffee and read a bit. As I was enjoying my book, The Best American Travel Writing (I’d really recommend it if you find travel interesting), it began to pour. In Ethiopia, no one walks when it is raining so I was forced (yes forced!) to enjoy my coffee and book at a splendidly slow pace.

Eventually I had to move on. I took more pictures, received more funny looks and decided to reward myself with another cup of coffee at a certain point- an aspect of the lifestyle here I have grown to love. As I sat down, I noticed there was a soccer game on. It turns out that it is currently the women's 20-and-under World Cup. Sure enough, the United States was playing Korea in the semifinals. I decided to stay until half time and then move on.  But after half time, it was still tied 0-0 so I felt it was my duty, as an American, to stay and support my team. The US scored and I managed to keep the celebration reasonably quiet. If you have ever watch sports with me, you know that I cannot keep quiet and I squirm in my seat ANY TIME something remotely intense happens. Eventually, Korea scored the tying goal. Unknown to me, about half the café was watching me watch the game. And again, if you have ever watched sports with me, you know when the other teams scores; there is an instant stream of profanity that leaves my mouth before I even realize what I am saying. Oppps. I don’t think that is what Peace Corps had in mind when they preached to share American culture.

            
Once everyone saw how invested in the game I was, other people started watching and it got to be pretty fun. At the end of regulation, it was still tied 1-1. In the first extra time, our ladies score and that was enough to give them an eventual 2-1 win ('Merica!). Then, I suddenly remember what I set out to do today and took some pictures like I had planned. 

This is the road right outside my compound

 This is the never ending hill I have to walk up to get to the main road.  It is probably a good half mile long. It will either have me in perfect shape by the end of two years, or kill me. 

These are parts of the main road, it is asphalted with bajajs* everywhere 

(*the small, blue 3-wheeled vehicle in the picture)

Here is some of the chaos that is the market.

Here is where I get all my produce

  A muddy alley way. There are little "shops" all along the sides. 

This is my favorite little alley of the market. It is fully enclosed by metal sheets. The narrow alleyway is exactly what I expected an African market to be like. It is not wide enough for two people, you have to duck to avoid hitting your head on things. Just charming!

 And then here are a few just about town...

Boom, there you go! Now you have seen Asella and I have seen the women's US team win. 

Everyone wins!

Pictures, pictures and more pictures...

Finally have some free time so I thought I would post some pictures to show you what life was like during PST. Ironically, we all look super happy, like it was the best time of our lives. That is probably not how I would describe it, but enjoy! A big thanks to Ohnsoon for a lot of the pictures!

The school where we did our two week practicum

This sweet bag belonged to a 60-year-old lady. 

How can something be so cute and so ugly?

This is what you get when you ask an Ethiopian to take a picture, at least we're in it!

Hanging around Eteya...

A common past time in Eteya, catching flies

Roasting peanuts!

Good ole' TR, where the good times roll

 Language class was a pretty serious venture.

This picture should be in every recruiting office

You have to be hard to be in the Peace Corps

My language class!

                                                        

We kind of lost it towards the end of PST...

Our class getting interrupted by a horse cart!

  And, around the town.

Me, trying to look half as cool as my host brother Addisu

We always traveled with an entourage.

These boys are looking pretty styling!