January 10, 2010 – Ethiopia gets an extra dose of Mohan/Fewel!
Yikes! I realize that I have completely dropped the ball on this blog and for the painstaking three months that I left you with no word (except through my mom, how embarrassing) of my well-being and goings on, I sincerely apologize. The more time that went by, the harder it was to sit down and write. Unfortunately, I can’t play the “I was so busy” card since I think you will all see through that, so I’ll just say I’m sorry. So I must first begin, with further embarrassment, by updating my birthday/holiday wishes.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO:
Laura!! (September 28) I am sooooo sorry I did not include you last time, Kak. But thanks for following my blog so religiously. I adore you.
Nanny!! (November 8)
Melissa/Protégé!! (November 10)
Mama!! (November 27) – you were here so you got it in person, but still
Joey!! (November 29)
Chelsea/Wife!! (December 3) – for whom I finally managed to have buffalo wings sent out (I attempted last year, the day that I left for Ethiopia, but no luck)
Other notable events:
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! No celebrations here. I watched a movie and washed my underwear.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!! Mine was an enormous success as I had my mama and sister here with me
BONNIE’S ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY IN ETHIOPIA!!!!! (December 4) Both a point of accomplishment and a wake-up call to get my butt in gear before the next year flies by too!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Also a delightful event here, ironically hosted by my Jewish friend, Marina :)
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I wish you all a very happy and fulfilling 2010 (and success with your resolutions)
HAPPY ETHIOPIAN CHRISTMAS!! (January 7) It’s still going on and I can’t eat any more doro wat (spicy chicken dish)!
And a BIG congratulations to my darling cousins, Melissa, Maura, and Catherine, for completing their first semester of college! I am so proud of you guys. Spring Break 2010: Ethiopia? :)
Phew! I think doing all of that was incentive enough for me to keep up-to-date on my blog from now on. Also, my mom totally showing me up by posting on Facebook like 5 albums of photos from their trip. But seriously, thanks for that mama! That’s really the most eventful thing that’s happened anyway, so let me stop dragging my feet (fingertips?) and fill you in. I am going to leave out a lot of the details (places we visited and such) and give more of a reflection on the visit. I’ve asked mom and Maureen to write a little something for my blog and hopefully then can give more of that information.
So Mom and Maureen arrived in mid-November and the weeks leading up to their arrival were filled with me frantically trying to prepare for them. I had just moved into my new house (dubbed “The Villa” by my supervisor and head of the Dilla Health Office) and was seriously lacking furniture to fill the place. In addition to all the empty space making me feel even lonelier than normal life does on its own, I really wanted to make a home in which my family would feel comfortable. You all have met my sister, Maureen, right? But seriously, Mo was a trooper and you all would have been shocked and proud (no offense, sister). More on that later….
So my ladies arrived at around 7:30pm on a Thursday evening and upon seeing their shining albeit jet-lagged faces, I began jumping up and down whilst running to meet them at the end of the rope line. Let’s just say my rugby skills came in handy. The cheesy movie moment culminated in a tearful, dramatic, attention-getting, three-way hug filled with kisses. I think even Mom and Mo were kissing each other as if they hadn’t just spent two days on an airplane together. I could hear G in the back of my head saying, “Ya buncha Lesbos”. We finally broke away when Mom said, “Let me look at you!” and after a few seconds they both agreed, “You look the same.” How anti-climactic.
Soon we were out in the parking lot and Mama and Mo had their first “Wow, Bonnie is a badass” moment as I negotiated (in Amharic) our taxi driver down to 70 Birr from his 100 Birr initial offer. Sorry for the language, kiddies. All three scrunched in the back seat (Maureen with her head practically out the window with curiosity and excitement), and we were on our way to the Ras Hotel, where Peace Corps always puts us volunteers up when we have to come to Addis for meetings or medical stuff. It was interesting seeing their reaction to the hotel we all consider “luxurious” since it has a TV with BBC and a bathroom in the room with a toilet and (sometimes) hot shower. We barely even notice the musty carpets, moldy ceilings, and flooding bathroom – a result of no shower curtains. They did, however, and I found it thoroughly entertaining. I remember those days, although they feel an eternity ago. After a (for me at least) delicious meal with some local beers, we retired for the night.
The following day we went to the Peace Corps office to show them around then visited the National Museum. Here we got to see a replica of the famous “Lucy” since the real one is in the States, and some other cultural stuff. We were guilted into using a remarkably unintelligible guide (interesting to hire a man with a lisp for a job entirely dependent on clear communication), who gave Maureen her first marriage proposal. I might have been offended at his preferences if I had not had nearly a year of such advances. But not to worry, our taxi driver back to the hotel made it clear that he would accept any of the three of us as his new wife so that he could go to America. What a doll.
The first few days were a challenge for all of us. Mom was having a really difficult time kicking her jet lag and both she and Maureen were having the natural reactions expected on a first visit to sub-Saharan Africa, or any developing country for that matter. I struggled as I was forced to relive all of those initial reactions and emotions and to confront the degree to which I had become desensitized to it all. When a skinny woman in rags carrying a painfully malnourished child came to the window of our taxi, Maureen had to resist her every impulse to give the woman money while my first reaction was to say “God bless you but leave us alone” because I am so tired of being looked at as a source of money. Oh no! Have I already become one of those jaded aid workers who has hardened themselves to everything around them? Reflecting on it now, I am confident that I have not.
There is a certain element of separation that is required in order to survive here. If I was walking around weeping all the time because of all the poverty and disease, I wouldn’t be very effective and most likely would have been on a flight home, months ago. And while there are certain things and behaviors that I have come to accept and consider as normal, there are also things that no degree of adaptation will allow me to excuse or accept. A man should not push a woman to the ground in order to get onto a crowded bus, no matter if he is poor, stressed, and frustrated that he cannot provide for his family. And just because a child has nothing does not mean that a feeding program that is supposed to provide children with an oasis can do the bare minimum and say “Oh, well. That’s life” when there is not enough food to feed all of the children for a week straight.
So anyway, this was a constant battle for me throughout the trip: wanting my family to be happy and comfortable yet dealing with these daily frustrations of being a white foreigner in a very poor African country. When they were upset, I was upset. It just made fresh all of the frustrations and complaints I have about this country that I try my best to suppress in favor of the good and positive things. And what made reliving all of these things with them more difficult, was knowing that they got to leave at the end and I still had a year more of this. After they did leave, I had a very difficult time. It was so nice to have company with me every day for three weeks: to wake up together, eat every meal together, and travel together. When they left, it was an intense loneliness that I hadn’t experienced before then. However, after a few weeks, I got back into my normal routine and that was a relief. As happy as I was to have them here and to see my life, the time they were here wasn’t “real life.”
Surviving here is by creating routine and making things feel as comfortable as possible. I know how to be in my town, as a volunteer, with people who know me. I didn’t know how to be a tourist. My daily life is trying to convince people that I am not a tourist, and suddenly I was. My daily dialogue in my town has been “My name is not ‘you you you’ or ‘farenji’, it’s Benny. I eat your food, I speak your language, I get from place to place by my feet, just like you. Please treat me like a person.” And the people of Dilla understand that now. But now I was in new places, getting around in a private, albeit very old, SUV and getting tourist (really, white) prices. I was really bothered by the general feeling of being taken advantage of. I know that this is the nature of tourism throughout the world but a big part of my identity here is breaking those stereotypes that all white people are rich and here to give handouts; which was why it was such a relief to get back to my town and have my mom and sister see my “real” life.
Our first night in Dilla, I invited our driver and new friend, Johannes, to stay at my home for the night. We decided to make him some “farenji” food and settled on Chinese: spring rolls, beef lo mein, and egg fried rice. To purchase the needed ingredients, I threw my loved ones right into the belly of the beast with a trip to the market. Ask any Peace Corps Volunteer and I am sure you will find that trips to the market are the most dreaded of necessary activities for life. But we survived, I got good prices, and we celebrated our success by paying a little boy to go buy us a kilo of flour. A job well done. The food was delicious and abundant, although I did acquire some semi-serious grease burns on my legs from hastily dropping a spring roll into a pan of hot oil cooking on the ground. I’ve asked if there is a work for “klutz” in Amharic and have been assured there is not.
The rest of the week was spent relaxing, enjoying each other’s company, making introductions to local friends and work people, and preparing for Thanksgiving. The guests began arriving on Wednesday and we put them straight to work, peeling, chopping, baking, menamen, menamen (that’s the Ethiopian equivalent for et cetera – “Good morning! How are you? Are you fine? Menamen, menamen”). Thursday morning, Thanksgiving Day, I had to teach English and Mama and Karen were kind enough to accompany me. The class was so excited to have them there and doted on them like loyal servants. “You have no chair! Here, take mine. I will stand.” Who are these children and what have they done with my students?? Mama and Karen introduced themselves, at the beckoning of the class, and then we went over our vocabulary words. Not very exciting but Mama got to see me in action, which was fun.
When we returned home, all of the chores I had assigned to my guests had been completed! We put out the hor duerves (cheese, crackers, salami, carrots, ranch dressing, and some turkey jerky bites Chris brought) and began cooking the big feast. The men were in charge of manning the charcoal stove on which we cooked the pot roast while the women-folk prepared mashed sweet and regular potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffing, vegetarian gravy, cranberry sauce and mac’n’cheese. The cornbread, pumpkin pie, and strawberry shortcake were baked the night before (in my dutch oven – a big pot and tuna fish cans). There was so much food and everything turned out incredibly delicious, especially for being cooked on 2 cheap kerosene stoves. As we ate, everyone went around and said what they were thankful for. It was really lovely until Jordan dropped the bomb that he was leaving Peace Corps to go back home and marry his fiancé. We were all so happy for him but really saddened by the news. He is just such a warm, funny, and kind person and brought so much to our group.
Even still, the holiday was really wonderful and I was so happy to share it with my mom and sister. I wasn’t the only one: all my friends said how nice it was to have a mom there for Thanksgiving. In fact, many of them were calling her “Mama” – her honorary title for the entire trip. I even had one of my best friends, Misrach, stop by and try some Thanksgiving food! She really liked it but her neighbor who she brought said it was too sweet. Heartbreaking – go back to your enjera. So Thanksgiving night, we had a big sleepover with 9 bodies squeezed together on my three twin-size mattresses (pieces of foam). The next morning, we made potato pancakes from leftovers and then everyone headed back to their towns.
The following day, we left Dilla to spend some time in Awassa for John’s birthday. I won’t get into the details of finding a hotel and then our attempt to have pizza afterwards – I think Mama will tell that part nicely. {Mama, here: The oft-touted sentiment about Awassa was its reputation as Ethiopia's most modern city with a "western" feel and gorgeous landscape of mountains and its beautiful Lake Awassa. Modern, until women try to book and share a hotel room for a couple of evenings without a man. Although called Pat Benatar from time to time by my brother John, it is the first time I have ever been accused of having a lesbian relationship with my daughter Maureen. Three hotels later, we were finally able to get a hotel to rent us two rooms for this group of 4 women - at a hefty price, I might add. Bonnie's room came complete with a toilet bowl missing a large chunk of the bowl making it useless. Upset, but somewhat triumphant we headed to the best pizza place in Ethiopia (the Volunteers sometimes need a break from the injera and wat, and when available, satisfy their cravings of home). As is common in Ethiopia, rather than tell us that the pizza guy wasn't currently working, they kept promising the pizza would be ready any minute now.....2.5 hours later.... after Bonnie went searching for this "elusive" pizza cook...there was no pizza cook. When a burst of smoke emerged from an outdoor oven, we realized he was finally here and we had been sitting (and drinking beer) for hours waiting. Bonnie, in beautiful and strong Amharic, blasted anyone who would listen and managed to get our pizzas made and at no charge. Although upset, she was proud that she actually managed to get the pizzas for free - unheard of in Ethiopia, although common in this country. It was a tough day, particularly for Bonnie since she had raved about beautiful Awassa. Things could only improve...and they did.... ]
But we did have a nice walk by Lake Awassa to Monkey Park where we relaxed lakeside with sodas and books. The only minor hiccup was when a monkey tried to take off with Maureen’s purse – he literally had it in hand and was rummaging through, completely undeterred by our shouts and frantic arm-thrashing, books in hand. He finally scurried off when I jumped out of my chair and charged. That night we had dinner at this lovely roof-top bar and restaurant where we toasted Poppa with a nip of Jameson on the 4-year anniversary of his death and were rewarded with a rainbow which stretched across the sky after a brief rain. Then to pick things up a bit, we toasted Joey with our jumbo draft beers on his 24th birthday.
For our last day in Addis, we went to see a movie (Old Dogs, starring Robin Williams and John Travolta) at the Edna Mall movie theater. The movie was cute and considering the ticking clock to their departure and my subsequent depression, a better choice than the alternatives 2012 or some Renee Zellweger horror flick. For dinner, we returned to the Thai restaurant that we had dined at previously in the trip because of its delicious food (no “for Ethiopia” disclaimer included!) and delightful atmosphere (see your Christmas cards from us). We had a wonderful taxi driver from our hotel to the restaurant, who agreed to come back for us after two hours to bring us to the airport and then after I got Mama and Maureen through security, to drive me back to the hotel. We left our luggage in the trunk for convenience purposes and so were really concerned when 20 minutes after the designated pick-up time, our taxi had still not arrived. When we went outside to stand by the road in case he had forgotten the place, we spotted a taxi parked in the back of the restaurant with a sleeping driver hunched over the wheel. Apparently our wonderful taxi driver came an hour early, when we weren’t watching the driveway, and had actually been waiting for us. Oops.
Our goodbye was sooner than expected as I couldn’t even get in the doors of the airport. We hugged and kissed and began to cry and I mournfully head back to the taxi. Upon entering the taxi and driving away, I began to bawl and the aforementioned wonderful taxi driver pulled me into a one-armed bear hug, kissing my head and running is hand down my face to wipe away the tears. My bawling soon had a hint of laughter to it. To make matters more interesting, the girls went a little overboard with our “last supper” and spent more than we budgeted so Bonnie did not have enough money to pay the wonderful taxi driver. But being wonderful, he allowed me to run up to my room to get more cash, without any argument or collateral. Excuse me sir, can you adopt me?
So I will end my blog with that because I fear that if I attempt to cover any more material, this blog will never go public. Additionally, I think I may have already exceeded the American attention-span for reading and probably only 25% of you have even reached this paragraph. Congratulations and thank you. I promise to write shorter, more frequent entries to avoid such dismal drop-out rates.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Friday, October 9, 2009
A Day In the Life of a Farenjua
October 6, 2009
As I am writing you this, my latest blog entry, I am dining on a sandwich of canned “potted meat” that my friend Chris received in a package and was scared of (I have no such qualms about foods with ingredients such as “mechanically separated chicken”), topped with several month-old cheese whiz. I know I have bragged about my cooking prowess but I guess it’s just one of those nights. You order delivery, I have potted meat sandwiches. I am also listening to Christmas music because that makes me happy. If it’s any indication, “All I Want for Christmas Is You” is the most-played song in my iTunes.
Moving along… I am sure that many of you have heard (through Mama Mohan) that I had an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago, when a crazy bum on the street punched me in the chest during the middle of the day completely unprovoked. If you hadn’t, then please be assured that I am fine. But this incident was a breaking point of sorts for me. After months of daily harassment, this incident really upset me and made me realize that I could not keep living like this in my town. This was also just one week after I had some small items (hair conditioner, body wash, and rolls of TP) stolen from my bathroom, which is just outside of my house. So I met with Peace Corps senior staff and we decided to do an intervention of sorts in my town. Two staff came down to Dilla and we had a meeting with the head city administrator, my counterpart from the HIV Office, and the head of the health center. We discussed the problems I have been having in the town and ways that we can address these issues. For the first time, I really felt that I was taking control of the situation and was being heard. The city administrator agreed that there was a serious problem in Dilla and the head officials in the town had been meeting about how to address these issues. In fact, on the day of the punching incident I learned from my co-worker that an HIV-positive commercial sex worker was attacked in the town because of her status. Not a great place.
But even still, I have decided to give Dilla another chance. Additionally, I am moving houses! It became clear after the second theft (you may remember my clothes being stolen off the clothes line when I first got to site), that this is not a safe place for me to be. I also have a very contentious relationship with my landlady, which was exacerbating my feelings of negativity and frustration with the town. So I have found a new house that is right across from the health center and just a two minute walk from my office. The house is beautiful and HUGE, not just compared to the tiny place I am in now. It is a little bit farther from ”downtown” than my current place, but I like to look at it as similar to my choice to live in a spacious studio in the Bronx rather than a closet in Manhattan. The neighborhood is much more residential than my current neighborhood and I think living and working in the same neighborhood will really give me the sense of community that I have been craving but lacking up until now. This week I will be meeting with the kebele (local division of the town) leaders for my new neighborhood, my counterpart and the head of the health center, to organize a kind of community meeting to formerly introduce me to the community and explain why I am here. I feel that if I have at least one place in the town where people know me and understand why I am here, that I can tolerate all the other unpleasant attention. And I will just avoid the crazies as best I can.
So that’s what’s happening with me. Now I just have to find the money to buy all the new furniture I will need for my new mansion that I never had room for here. :) But at least I will have the space to host THANKSGIVING!!! My mama and sister will be here in Ethiopia for the holiday (and mom’s birthday, shhhhh) so I am preparing to have the works. I’m already trying to track down a turkey. I’ve also heard rumors of a pig farm in Dilla where I might be able to get a ham. I myself have not seen a pig since coming to Ethiopia (no one here eats pork) but I think the Catholic Church in town runs it or something…good ol’ Catholics, right Nanny? I’m crossing my fingers.
So anyway, now that I have spent months carping about the harassment I get here, I thought you might enjoy a little taste of what I mean by that. So here, for you all, is “A Day in the Life” of Bonnie Fewel Mohan, Peace Corps Volunteer in the character-building town of Dilla, Ethiopia. For those of you who will not be able to experience the charm of Ethiopia for yourselves (at this point, everyone except my mom and sister), I hope this will give you an idea.
“Greetings” (in relative order of their frequency)
1. The general “you”, which comes in several different forms:
• The steady, high-pitched string of “yous”, most common among young children, and generally delivered uninterrupted until I am out of site.
• The “you” couplet delivered in a kind of coo coo clock rhythm with increasing volume, under the misconception that I simply cannot hear them.
• The single, painfully loud shout of “YOU!”, most common among the adults in town and usually given at distances of less than three feet
• The comparatively delightful Amharic version for women, “anchey” (a has the ‘ah’ sound). For men, it is “anteh”
2. The “foreigner”, specifically “white person” accusation/identification, which also has different varieties: farenji, farenj, farenjua (female), farenjita (the Sidaminya version…that’s the language of Sidama Zone, just above of my zone, Gedeo), and finally farenjitay (Gedinya, the language of Gedeo).
3. “Ky-yo”, meaning “the red one” – I could understand this one if I were sun burned but I rarely am
4. “China” – the only other foreigners that are here for long periods of time are the Chinese guys working on either roads or telecommunications. I think they just think it’s another word for foreigner but I get a kick out of it and sometimes reply with “Bulgaria” or some other random country. They don’t get it.
5. “Sister” – this one I don’t mind
6. “Miss” or “Mrs.”
7. “Ennatay”, which means “my mother” in Amharic. Oddly, this usually comes mostly from beggar women that are my grandmother’s age (or at least look it, they might be 30 years old the way people age here).
Inquiries
1. “Where are you go?” – somehow, everyone in this country thinks this is a normal question to ask someone and the grammatically correct way to do so.
2. “Are you fine?” – to be “fine” is very good here so people will just ask you if you are it, rather than “how are you?”; there is only one real answer: “I am fine”
3. “What is your name?” – they often don’t even know what this means
Rude stuff
1. “Give me money”
2. “Money”
3. “Fuck you”
4. “Sex”
So that pretty much sums up the main things I have yelled at me here. Not to mention all the people that just stop in front of me to stare, follow me, or touch me. Please keep in mind that this begins from the minute I leave my compound until the minute I am inside somewhere where people know me. Take a minute to think about what that would be like, every day of your life. I know it is mostly innocent and comes from a lack of understanding, but it is also extremely exhausting. But, I guess that’s what I signed on for. So I try different tactics for how I respond to the attention to see which are most effective. The jury is still out. One experience that I have a lot, and which my Irish family will appreciate, is Ethiopians’ preoccupation with freckles. They seriously do not understand what they are and I constantly have people rubbing my arms, trying to figure it out. It’s also a difficult concept to explain because they tend to just think they are sun spots or “blemishes”. Being a proud Irish American, I refuse to have my beloved freckles reduced to being called blemishes. So for the kids at least, I just say that they are little spots of habesha, which is the name Ethiopians call themselves. This goes over pretty well and then the kids start pointing to all the different freckles, naming them “habesha” and then to the white areas saying “farenji”. It’s pretty adorable.
One last tidbit that I have to share is my first real “Peace Corps” experience. Get ready, it’s kind of gross. I had a worm lay eggs in my toe! I always wear my chaco sandals around town and have never had a problem until the rainy season came and some worm worked its way in. I guess the way they operate is they dig themselves in, lay a bunch of eggs, and then as time passes they will burst out and infect all the other toes. Fortunately, I caught it before this happened and just had to dig all the eggs out with my tweezers and nail clippers, throw on some Neosporin and call it a day. It looked a lot like puss but when you look at it up close you can see it’s hundreds of tiny little white eggs. Pretty gross, huh?
Ok, that’s all for now. I hope you have a better idea of what my days are like, at least concerning the attention I get. It will be so nice to get back to NY when no one looks twice at you, no matter how hideous, beautiful, or outrageously dressed you are. But in the meantime, I’ll work it :)
As I am writing you this, my latest blog entry, I am dining on a sandwich of canned “potted meat” that my friend Chris received in a package and was scared of (I have no such qualms about foods with ingredients such as “mechanically separated chicken”), topped with several month-old cheese whiz. I know I have bragged about my cooking prowess but I guess it’s just one of those nights. You order delivery, I have potted meat sandwiches. I am also listening to Christmas music because that makes me happy. If it’s any indication, “All I Want for Christmas Is You” is the most-played song in my iTunes.
Moving along… I am sure that many of you have heard (through Mama Mohan) that I had an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago, when a crazy bum on the street punched me in the chest during the middle of the day completely unprovoked. If you hadn’t, then please be assured that I am fine. But this incident was a breaking point of sorts for me. After months of daily harassment, this incident really upset me and made me realize that I could not keep living like this in my town. This was also just one week after I had some small items (hair conditioner, body wash, and rolls of TP) stolen from my bathroom, which is just outside of my house. So I met with Peace Corps senior staff and we decided to do an intervention of sorts in my town. Two staff came down to Dilla and we had a meeting with the head city administrator, my counterpart from the HIV Office, and the head of the health center. We discussed the problems I have been having in the town and ways that we can address these issues. For the first time, I really felt that I was taking control of the situation and was being heard. The city administrator agreed that there was a serious problem in Dilla and the head officials in the town had been meeting about how to address these issues. In fact, on the day of the punching incident I learned from my co-worker that an HIV-positive commercial sex worker was attacked in the town because of her status. Not a great place.
But even still, I have decided to give Dilla another chance. Additionally, I am moving houses! It became clear after the second theft (you may remember my clothes being stolen off the clothes line when I first got to site), that this is not a safe place for me to be. I also have a very contentious relationship with my landlady, which was exacerbating my feelings of negativity and frustration with the town. So I have found a new house that is right across from the health center and just a two minute walk from my office. The house is beautiful and HUGE, not just compared to the tiny place I am in now. It is a little bit farther from ”downtown” than my current place, but I like to look at it as similar to my choice to live in a spacious studio in the Bronx rather than a closet in Manhattan. The neighborhood is much more residential than my current neighborhood and I think living and working in the same neighborhood will really give me the sense of community that I have been craving but lacking up until now. This week I will be meeting with the kebele (local division of the town) leaders for my new neighborhood, my counterpart and the head of the health center, to organize a kind of community meeting to formerly introduce me to the community and explain why I am here. I feel that if I have at least one place in the town where people know me and understand why I am here, that I can tolerate all the other unpleasant attention. And I will just avoid the crazies as best I can.
So that’s what’s happening with me. Now I just have to find the money to buy all the new furniture I will need for my new mansion that I never had room for here. :) But at least I will have the space to host THANKSGIVING!!! My mama and sister will be here in Ethiopia for the holiday (and mom’s birthday, shhhhh) so I am preparing to have the works. I’m already trying to track down a turkey. I’ve also heard rumors of a pig farm in Dilla where I might be able to get a ham. I myself have not seen a pig since coming to Ethiopia (no one here eats pork) but I think the Catholic Church in town runs it or something…good ol’ Catholics, right Nanny? I’m crossing my fingers.
So anyway, now that I have spent months carping about the harassment I get here, I thought you might enjoy a little taste of what I mean by that. So here, for you all, is “A Day in the Life” of Bonnie Fewel Mohan, Peace Corps Volunteer in the character-building town of Dilla, Ethiopia. For those of you who will not be able to experience the charm of Ethiopia for yourselves (at this point, everyone except my mom and sister), I hope this will give you an idea.
“Greetings” (in relative order of their frequency)
1. The general “you”, which comes in several different forms:
• The steady, high-pitched string of “yous”, most common among young children, and generally delivered uninterrupted until I am out of site.
• The “you” couplet delivered in a kind of coo coo clock rhythm with increasing volume, under the misconception that I simply cannot hear them.
• The single, painfully loud shout of “YOU!”, most common among the adults in town and usually given at distances of less than three feet
• The comparatively delightful Amharic version for women, “anchey” (a has the ‘ah’ sound). For men, it is “anteh”
2. The “foreigner”, specifically “white person” accusation/identification, which also has different varieties: farenji, farenj, farenjua (female), farenjita (the Sidaminya version…that’s the language of Sidama Zone, just above of my zone, Gedeo), and finally farenjitay (Gedinya, the language of Gedeo).
3. “Ky-yo”, meaning “the red one” – I could understand this one if I were sun burned but I rarely am
4. “China” – the only other foreigners that are here for long periods of time are the Chinese guys working on either roads or telecommunications. I think they just think it’s another word for foreigner but I get a kick out of it and sometimes reply with “Bulgaria” or some other random country. They don’t get it.
5. “Sister” – this one I don’t mind
6. “Miss” or “Mrs.”
7. “Ennatay”, which means “my mother” in Amharic. Oddly, this usually comes mostly from beggar women that are my grandmother’s age (or at least look it, they might be 30 years old the way people age here).
Inquiries
1. “Where are you go?” – somehow, everyone in this country thinks this is a normal question to ask someone and the grammatically correct way to do so.
2. “Are you fine?” – to be “fine” is very good here so people will just ask you if you are it, rather than “how are you?”; there is only one real answer: “I am fine”
3. “What is your name?” – they often don’t even know what this means
Rude stuff
1. “Give me money”
2. “Money”
3. “Fuck you”
4. “Sex”
So that pretty much sums up the main things I have yelled at me here. Not to mention all the people that just stop in front of me to stare, follow me, or touch me. Please keep in mind that this begins from the minute I leave my compound until the minute I am inside somewhere where people know me. Take a minute to think about what that would be like, every day of your life. I know it is mostly innocent and comes from a lack of understanding, but it is also extremely exhausting. But, I guess that’s what I signed on for. So I try different tactics for how I respond to the attention to see which are most effective. The jury is still out. One experience that I have a lot, and which my Irish family will appreciate, is Ethiopians’ preoccupation with freckles. They seriously do not understand what they are and I constantly have people rubbing my arms, trying to figure it out. It’s also a difficult concept to explain because they tend to just think they are sun spots or “blemishes”. Being a proud Irish American, I refuse to have my beloved freckles reduced to being called blemishes. So for the kids at least, I just say that they are little spots of habesha, which is the name Ethiopians call themselves. This goes over pretty well and then the kids start pointing to all the different freckles, naming them “habesha” and then to the white areas saying “farenji”. It’s pretty adorable.
One last tidbit that I have to share is my first real “Peace Corps” experience. Get ready, it’s kind of gross. I had a worm lay eggs in my toe! I always wear my chaco sandals around town and have never had a problem until the rainy season came and some worm worked its way in. I guess the way they operate is they dig themselves in, lay a bunch of eggs, and then as time passes they will burst out and infect all the other toes. Fortunately, I caught it before this happened and just had to dig all the eggs out with my tweezers and nail clippers, throw on some Neosporin and call it a day. It looked a lot like puss but when you look at it up close you can see it’s hundreds of tiny little white eggs. Pretty gross, huh?
Ok, that’s all for now. I hope you have a better idea of what my days are like, at least concerning the attention I get. It will be so nice to get back to NY when no one looks twice at you, no matter how hideous, beautiful, or outrageously dressed you are. But in the meantime, I’ll work it :)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Six Month Blues
August 25, 2009
I’ve now been living at my site, Dilla, for a little over six months and have been in Ethiopia for almost nine months. It’s ok, you can allow yourselves to be shocked that you’ve made it so long without me; I know I am. I mean, I’m shocked I’ve made it so long without YOU, of course! :) So apparently, according to the Peace Corps Emotional Rollercoaster (it’s not just internal, they actually have a graph), I should be in a little downward dip at this 6-month point of my service. Damn Peace Corps, I pride myself on being such an individual and they got me down to a T with their stupid rollercoaster.
Things have been tough lately. On a bright note, the harassment, although still very much present, has been getting better. “Benny” is quickly catching on and I am feeling a little more integrated in my very large community. While I am on that, I was disappointed to learn from my mom that many of you did not get my “Jets” reference. It’s Elton John, folks; “Benny and the Jets”. Maybe you’ve heard it before. Not one of my fave Elton hits but it fits the bill.
Anyway, what’s been difficult lately is mostly feeling a little unaccomplished with work. The American in me (I know, I didn’t think there was much in me either) is kicking in and naturally expecting to see results after 6 months of “work”. Not only are there no results, I have no concrete projects in the works. I feel like I am still just trying to meet people and so far behind the other volunteers. I am sure everyone is feeling this way, but I am still having a difficult time breaking my self-criticism and frustration.
I’ve also been pretty homesick lately. The funny thing about being homesick is that sometimes I find myself missing the strangest things/places. Of course I miss the people I love most and the places I love most (NY and my favorite spots within it). But sometimes places pop into my head and, while missing it terribly, I think, “I’ve only been there like 2 times” or “I don’t even like that place.” For instance, I find the hot dog stand outside the City Hall subway station popping into my head far too frequently. Granted, those that know me know I LOVE a good street hotdog but I can count the number of times I have been to City Hall on two hands (mostly to deliver grants to government buildings or for ROC events) and can count the number of times I have bought hotdogs at that stand on one hand. Yet I think about and miss it frequently.
The other place that caught be by surprise and let me know I was really having a tough time here, was when I found myself yearning to be in Los Angeles. No offense, Sister, I know you love it, but LA is really not my kind of place. When all of a sudden I had an image of LA in my head and wanted to be there, I was like, “Whoa, Bonnie. You need to get a grip.” Hehe.
I guess the stranger thing is that, even though I miss home so much, this place really does feel like a home of sorts. My life here feels like life; not a vacation, not this crazy temporary experience, but just life. In the beginning I had to tell myself that this was home for the next two years; that this was my life now. Now, I just think it naturally. Thinking about my life being anything different is what’s abnormal. The way I think about life in America is similar to the way I think nostalgically on my time studying abroad in Barcelona: an amazing time, but one that is over. It’s also kind of like the way people in America think about what it would be like to live in Italy or something. You imagine it being filled with drinking good wine and eating amazing aged cheese and salami all the time. It’s all romanticized and glorified.
That’s kind of how I think about life in America now. I think about summers playing in Central Park with my friends, eating any type of food I want, seeing more than two different races of people, getting someplace in less than 2 hours and without someone practically sitting on my lap, etc. Can you believe I even romanticize riding the subway?! I tend to leave out details like having to work, being broke and the like. But ultimately, I think it’s a good thing for me. Eventually, I will have to face “American” reality but in the meantime, living in America doesn’t feel like reality to me. Ethiopia is real; America is a dream. And if I keep thinking that way, I think I will last here longer than I sometimes want to.
Speaking of that, I have sad news. This week, we are losing two more volunteers from my group. Christina (who is from CT and whose mom works with my Aunty Mary) and CR (one of my good friends who lives relatively close to me…8 hours-ish) have both decided to Early Terminate (ET) and will both be back in the States within a week. Christina leaves on Thursday and CR will probably be gone by Monday. I am going into Addis Ababa this weekend to say goodbye to her. Both of them recently traveled outside of Ethiopia (CR to the States and Christina to Germany, where her mom is from and boy friend lives) and upon returning, realized that they were much happier in those respective places. Neither of them have been very happy since we have been at site and it seems this is the best thing for them. I completely support them but I’ll also miss them a lot. I am sure you all remember from my blog posts in the past how difficult it is to lose fellow volunteers. We really are a family here.
However, while I am on that note, I have a happy update on my friend Travis (the one who was forced to go home because of asthma). He applied to re-enroll into another PC program, one which could deal with his medical condition, and just last week left for the Philippines! Although it’s daunting to have to start all over again, he is really happy with his placement (and with good reason, that sounds way better than Ethiopia!). So I am really happy for him about that.
Anyway, there is just a quick little emotional update for you all. I am hanging in there and am optimistic about my future here. I still don’t really know what is going to happen work-wise but I have faith something will come together. Hopefully I’ll be climbing that next big hill on the rollercoaster soon. As always, thank you for your love and support. If anyone has any interest in supporting me more, um, tangibly, here are some things that I enjoy receiving:
Will accept unlimited supplies of:
-canned chicken and tuna (in water)
-cheese of any kind (it travels fine, I swear)
-beef/turkey jerky and summer sausage/hard salami (also travels fine)
-chips or crackers (triscuits and stonewheat are favorites)
-chocolate
-pasta and rice seasoning packets, like Knorr or Zataran’s black beans and rice or jambalaya
-nuts and dried fruit
-entertainment (books, DVDs, news magazines, puzzles, paint-by-numbers, crafts of any kind)
-recipes! (preferably ones that don’t have very exotic ingredients; simple is better)
Things I need only one of so communicate with each other:
-the book, The Magus by John Fowles
-a Schick Quattro women’s razor
-a dark-colored fitted sheet (anything you have extra in your closet, doesn’t need to be new, just dark because it’s dirty here. And they only sell top sheets which really don’t stay tucked in.)
And seriously, please feel no obligation to send me anything. I’m not starving or anything. Just if you WANT to send me something, these are some helpful hints. But I will accept ANYTHING gratefully so don’t feel tied to this list. Thanks!
I’ve now been living at my site, Dilla, for a little over six months and have been in Ethiopia for almost nine months. It’s ok, you can allow yourselves to be shocked that you’ve made it so long without me; I know I am. I mean, I’m shocked I’ve made it so long without YOU, of course! :) So apparently, according to the Peace Corps Emotional Rollercoaster (it’s not just internal, they actually have a graph), I should be in a little downward dip at this 6-month point of my service. Damn Peace Corps, I pride myself on being such an individual and they got me down to a T with their stupid rollercoaster.
Things have been tough lately. On a bright note, the harassment, although still very much present, has been getting better. “Benny” is quickly catching on and I am feeling a little more integrated in my very large community. While I am on that, I was disappointed to learn from my mom that many of you did not get my “Jets” reference. It’s Elton John, folks; “Benny and the Jets”. Maybe you’ve heard it before. Not one of my fave Elton hits but it fits the bill.
Anyway, what’s been difficult lately is mostly feeling a little unaccomplished with work. The American in me (I know, I didn’t think there was much in me either) is kicking in and naturally expecting to see results after 6 months of “work”. Not only are there no results, I have no concrete projects in the works. I feel like I am still just trying to meet people and so far behind the other volunteers. I am sure everyone is feeling this way, but I am still having a difficult time breaking my self-criticism and frustration.
I’ve also been pretty homesick lately. The funny thing about being homesick is that sometimes I find myself missing the strangest things/places. Of course I miss the people I love most and the places I love most (NY and my favorite spots within it). But sometimes places pop into my head and, while missing it terribly, I think, “I’ve only been there like 2 times” or “I don’t even like that place.” For instance, I find the hot dog stand outside the City Hall subway station popping into my head far too frequently. Granted, those that know me know I LOVE a good street hotdog but I can count the number of times I have been to City Hall on two hands (mostly to deliver grants to government buildings or for ROC events) and can count the number of times I have bought hotdogs at that stand on one hand. Yet I think about and miss it frequently.
The other place that caught be by surprise and let me know I was really having a tough time here, was when I found myself yearning to be in Los Angeles. No offense, Sister, I know you love it, but LA is really not my kind of place. When all of a sudden I had an image of LA in my head and wanted to be there, I was like, “Whoa, Bonnie. You need to get a grip.” Hehe.
I guess the stranger thing is that, even though I miss home so much, this place really does feel like a home of sorts. My life here feels like life; not a vacation, not this crazy temporary experience, but just life. In the beginning I had to tell myself that this was home for the next two years; that this was my life now. Now, I just think it naturally. Thinking about my life being anything different is what’s abnormal. The way I think about life in America is similar to the way I think nostalgically on my time studying abroad in Barcelona: an amazing time, but one that is over. It’s also kind of like the way people in America think about what it would be like to live in Italy or something. You imagine it being filled with drinking good wine and eating amazing aged cheese and salami all the time. It’s all romanticized and glorified.
That’s kind of how I think about life in America now. I think about summers playing in Central Park with my friends, eating any type of food I want, seeing more than two different races of people, getting someplace in less than 2 hours and without someone practically sitting on my lap, etc. Can you believe I even romanticize riding the subway?! I tend to leave out details like having to work, being broke and the like. But ultimately, I think it’s a good thing for me. Eventually, I will have to face “American” reality but in the meantime, living in America doesn’t feel like reality to me. Ethiopia is real; America is a dream. And if I keep thinking that way, I think I will last here longer than I sometimes want to.
Speaking of that, I have sad news. This week, we are losing two more volunteers from my group. Christina (who is from CT and whose mom works with my Aunty Mary) and CR (one of my good friends who lives relatively close to me…8 hours-ish) have both decided to Early Terminate (ET) and will both be back in the States within a week. Christina leaves on Thursday and CR will probably be gone by Monday. I am going into Addis Ababa this weekend to say goodbye to her. Both of them recently traveled outside of Ethiopia (CR to the States and Christina to Germany, where her mom is from and boy friend lives) and upon returning, realized that they were much happier in those respective places. Neither of them have been very happy since we have been at site and it seems this is the best thing for them. I completely support them but I’ll also miss them a lot. I am sure you all remember from my blog posts in the past how difficult it is to lose fellow volunteers. We really are a family here.
However, while I am on that note, I have a happy update on my friend Travis (the one who was forced to go home because of asthma). He applied to re-enroll into another PC program, one which could deal with his medical condition, and just last week left for the Philippines! Although it’s daunting to have to start all over again, he is really happy with his placement (and with good reason, that sounds way better than Ethiopia!). So I am really happy for him about that.
Anyway, there is just a quick little emotional update for you all. I am hanging in there and am optimistic about my future here. I still don’t really know what is going to happen work-wise but I have faith something will come together. Hopefully I’ll be climbing that next big hill on the rollercoaster soon. As always, thank you for your love and support. If anyone has any interest in supporting me more, um, tangibly, here are some things that I enjoy receiving:
Will accept unlimited supplies of:
-canned chicken and tuna (in water)
-cheese of any kind (it travels fine, I swear)
-beef/turkey jerky and summer sausage/hard salami (also travels fine)
-chips or crackers (triscuits and stonewheat are favorites)
-chocolate
-pasta and rice seasoning packets, like Knorr or Zataran’s black beans and rice or jambalaya
-nuts and dried fruit
-entertainment (books, DVDs, news magazines, puzzles, paint-by-numbers, crafts of any kind)
-recipes! (preferably ones that don’t have very exotic ingredients; simple is better)
Things I need only one of so communicate with each other:
-the book, The Magus by John Fowles
-a Schick Quattro women’s razor
-a dark-colored fitted sheet (anything you have extra in your closet, doesn’t need to be new, just dark because it’s dirty here. And they only sell top sheets which really don’t stay tucked in.)
And seriously, please feel no obligation to send me anything. I’m not starving or anything. Just if you WANT to send me something, these are some helpful hints. But I will accept ANYTHING gratefully so don’t feel tied to this list. Thanks!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Tales of Turning 24
August 11, 2009
First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NORA (July 22nd), MAUREEN AND DAD (July 30th) and Kelly (July 31st)!!
I hope you all had spectacular birthdays this year.
As for my birthday, it started out a little shaky but was wonderful in the end. The night before my birthday was sleepless, interrupted by intermittent trips to my friend John’s disgusting latrine with persistent diarrhea and phone calls from home from loved ones who are used to the crappy network in my town and wanted to make sure they would be able to reach me. I have no complaints about the phone calls (thank you!) but the runs I could have done without.
Next, Kyle and I went to the bus station to catch a bus to Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia, where I was meeting up with some friends for my birthday. The best part was, Gail, one of my best friends who lives on the other side of the country (we joke that she lives in Sudan and I live in Kenya) was going to be in Addis as well, for medical. The bus ride took 8 hours when it should take about 5, due to traffic outside of Addis. We were just sitting in absolute bumper-to-bumper for 3 hours. Might I remind you that I have the runs on top of it. So I was sitting there anxiously, trying not to crap myself. You’re welcome for the details; you just have to read it, I have to live it. When we FINALLY get into Addis, our bus breaks down and we are all forced to get out in the middle of a busy street and find line taxis, called “Blue Donkeys”. They have specific routes so we had to find the right one to get to our hotel.
Luckily, when we arrived at the hotel, our friends had already reserved rooms and I am able to take my first hot shower in what seems like ages! It was just what I needed. Getting to the restaurant to meet everyone was a chore, as it was raining, but when we got there at about 8pm, they surprised me with a cake, roses, a bottle of champagne and two huge beer towers!! We were treating ourselves to dinner at the Beer Garden. I was so surprised and felt so loved. I really have made some amazing friends here. At least through the other volunteers; I am still working on making some real Ethiopian friends. There has been some progress on that front, details coming in the next blog.
So after an amazing dinner (I ate chicken! Yeah, CHICKEN! I wish you could comprehend how exciting that was), a few of us went out dancing with these VSO volunteers (a service organization kind of similar to Peace Corps based out of the UK. They can serve 6 month, 1 year, or 2 years stints). One of them is dating an Ethiopian woman who just happened to share the same birthday as me! Although for her calendar, the birthday is the 25th of Hamlay, which is the 11th month of their 13 month calendar.
Brief aside: I believe I have mentioned that the Ethiopian day begins as 6 o’clock so their time is 6 hours after the rest of the world’s time…convenient, I know. Additionally, they have their own calendar. The Ethiopian New Year is on, coincidentally enough, September 11th (Maura and Catherine, maybe Ethiopia is the place for you two. Your birthday is actually a celebration over here!). They have 13 months, the first twelve of which are all 30 days long and then the final month is only 5 days long (and no one gets paid for that month). Additionally, the year here is 2001, 8 years behind the rest of the world. Therefore, there is no easy mathematical way to translate the Egrarian calendar date from the Ethiopian calendar and vice versa. Sometimes people and offices will have calendars that have both dates, which are very helpful, but in day-to-day life it’s extremely complicated, which is why I basically ignore their calendar. Have I mentioned that Ethiopia is unique? Yeah, it’s a little annoyingly unique.
Moving along… So my birthday was a success and lots of fun. The following day I had plans to visit my host family in Ambo, but they were in Addis for a wedding. I was somewhat relieved because it was really cold and rainy and the last thing I wanted was to get on a bus. So instead, Kyle and I went to the movies where much to his dismay, the only showing of the new Harry Potter had already passed so we saw The Hangover instead. It was funny and a nice break from Ethiopia. There weren’t even any power outages at the movie theater like last time! Monday morning we went into the Peace Corps office to use internet and such. They have satellite internet so all the sites that the Ethiopian government blocks (such as my blog site) are accessible there! So I got to actually look at my blog for the first time since I’ve been here. You can all thank my mom for posting my entries and pictures on my censored behalf.
In the afternoon we went to Fitche, a small town about 2-3 hours north of Addis where Karen lives. The ride was beautiful, despite riding in a bus with a bunch of Ethiopians who honestly believe that they will catch diseases by having the windows open and many of whom were vomiting into plastic bags on account of their illogical misconception. When we arrived in Fitche, it was close to dark, there was no cell phone network, and we had no idea where Karen lives. After much asking around, we find a bajaj driver who thinks he knows where she lives. We get in the general area and continue asking and through a neighborhood effort, we are personally escorted to Karen’s door. This is an early indication of how wonderful the people in Fitche are…and the benefits of being the only white person living in a town. Karen is surprised and delighted to see us and welcomes us in saying, “I didn’t know if you brought slippers so I bought you some.” Ethiopians all have house shoes, these ugly plastic shoes imported from China and widely available in any town, necessary in order not to track mud and dirt into the home. Karen, the doll that she is, actually went out and bought Kyle and I a pair. Unfortunately for Kyle, the largest size she can find was like a Women’s 10. Ethiopians are tiny.
None of us was particularly hungry so we just sat in her cozy living room, catching up by candlelight (no power). Karen is such a wonderful person to be around. She has the warmest presence and makes you feel more comfortable and at peace just by being near her. It doesn’t hurt that she’s a therapist back in the States and is professional listener. That’s actually why we went to FItche, in addition to wanting to see her, because she is doing an art therapy program for orphan children in her town. Kyle and I are both interested in doing a similar program in our respective towns, so we wanted to check it out. Kyle wants to do the program with children, many orphans, from the rural area of his town. I am hoping to adapt the program to adults in the Dilla Prison. Her program was great. Doing art for kids here is extremely difficult, though, because it is just so foreign to them. Artistic expression, any kind of creativity is not encouraged here so one is ever challenged to think abstractly or even to just think for themselves. It’s one of the things that frustrates me the most about living here. So the kids didn’t always understand the instructions, they were often just drawing what the person next to them was drawing, but they were so happy to have real colors to use. Karen had crayons and colored pencils sent from the States and I am confident it was the first time any of those children had used them before. It is going to take time for them to feel comfortable expressing themselves through art, but I think it was already a success. And I think these are the programs that are going to change Ethiopians’ mentalities so that progress and innovation may be possible from within the country, rather than always initiated by international organizations. I can only hope.
So thank you family and friends for the calls, the cards, the presents, etc. Even though I am far away, I felt extremely loved for my birthday. More updates (hopefully) coming soon! Love and miss you all!
Oh, and I got bit by a dog…but I’m ok!
First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NORA (July 22nd), MAUREEN AND DAD (July 30th) and Kelly (July 31st)!!
I hope you all had spectacular birthdays this year.
As for my birthday, it started out a little shaky but was wonderful in the end. The night before my birthday was sleepless, interrupted by intermittent trips to my friend John’s disgusting latrine with persistent diarrhea and phone calls from home from loved ones who are used to the crappy network in my town and wanted to make sure they would be able to reach me. I have no complaints about the phone calls (thank you!) but the runs I could have done without.
Next, Kyle and I went to the bus station to catch a bus to Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia, where I was meeting up with some friends for my birthday. The best part was, Gail, one of my best friends who lives on the other side of the country (we joke that she lives in Sudan and I live in Kenya) was going to be in Addis as well, for medical. The bus ride took 8 hours when it should take about 5, due to traffic outside of Addis. We were just sitting in absolute bumper-to-bumper for 3 hours. Might I remind you that I have the runs on top of it. So I was sitting there anxiously, trying not to crap myself. You’re welcome for the details; you just have to read it, I have to live it. When we FINALLY get into Addis, our bus breaks down and we are all forced to get out in the middle of a busy street and find line taxis, called “Blue Donkeys”. They have specific routes so we had to find the right one to get to our hotel.
Luckily, when we arrived at the hotel, our friends had already reserved rooms and I am able to take my first hot shower in what seems like ages! It was just what I needed. Getting to the restaurant to meet everyone was a chore, as it was raining, but when we got there at about 8pm, they surprised me with a cake, roses, a bottle of champagne and two huge beer towers!! We were treating ourselves to dinner at the Beer Garden. I was so surprised and felt so loved. I really have made some amazing friends here. At least through the other volunteers; I am still working on making some real Ethiopian friends. There has been some progress on that front, details coming in the next blog.
So after an amazing dinner (I ate chicken! Yeah, CHICKEN! I wish you could comprehend how exciting that was), a few of us went out dancing with these VSO volunteers (a service organization kind of similar to Peace Corps based out of the UK. They can serve 6 month, 1 year, or 2 years stints). One of them is dating an Ethiopian woman who just happened to share the same birthday as me! Although for her calendar, the birthday is the 25th of Hamlay, which is the 11th month of their 13 month calendar.
Brief aside: I believe I have mentioned that the Ethiopian day begins as 6 o’clock so their time is 6 hours after the rest of the world’s time…convenient, I know. Additionally, they have their own calendar. The Ethiopian New Year is on, coincidentally enough, September 11th (Maura and Catherine, maybe Ethiopia is the place for you two. Your birthday is actually a celebration over here!). They have 13 months, the first twelve of which are all 30 days long and then the final month is only 5 days long (and no one gets paid for that month). Additionally, the year here is 2001, 8 years behind the rest of the world. Therefore, there is no easy mathematical way to translate the Egrarian calendar date from the Ethiopian calendar and vice versa. Sometimes people and offices will have calendars that have both dates, which are very helpful, but in day-to-day life it’s extremely complicated, which is why I basically ignore their calendar. Have I mentioned that Ethiopia is unique? Yeah, it’s a little annoyingly unique.
Moving along… So my birthday was a success and lots of fun. The following day I had plans to visit my host family in Ambo, but they were in Addis for a wedding. I was somewhat relieved because it was really cold and rainy and the last thing I wanted was to get on a bus. So instead, Kyle and I went to the movies where much to his dismay, the only showing of the new Harry Potter had already passed so we saw The Hangover instead. It was funny and a nice break from Ethiopia. There weren’t even any power outages at the movie theater like last time! Monday morning we went into the Peace Corps office to use internet and such. They have satellite internet so all the sites that the Ethiopian government blocks (such as my blog site) are accessible there! So I got to actually look at my blog for the first time since I’ve been here. You can all thank my mom for posting my entries and pictures on my censored behalf.
In the afternoon we went to Fitche, a small town about 2-3 hours north of Addis where Karen lives. The ride was beautiful, despite riding in a bus with a bunch of Ethiopians who honestly believe that they will catch diseases by having the windows open and many of whom were vomiting into plastic bags on account of their illogical misconception. When we arrived in Fitche, it was close to dark, there was no cell phone network, and we had no idea where Karen lives. After much asking around, we find a bajaj driver who thinks he knows where she lives. We get in the general area and continue asking and through a neighborhood effort, we are personally escorted to Karen’s door. This is an early indication of how wonderful the people in Fitche are…and the benefits of being the only white person living in a town. Karen is surprised and delighted to see us and welcomes us in saying, “I didn’t know if you brought slippers so I bought you some.” Ethiopians all have house shoes, these ugly plastic shoes imported from China and widely available in any town, necessary in order not to track mud and dirt into the home. Karen, the doll that she is, actually went out and bought Kyle and I a pair. Unfortunately for Kyle, the largest size she can find was like a Women’s 10. Ethiopians are tiny.
None of us was particularly hungry so we just sat in her cozy living room, catching up by candlelight (no power). Karen is such a wonderful person to be around. She has the warmest presence and makes you feel more comfortable and at peace just by being near her. It doesn’t hurt that she’s a therapist back in the States and is professional listener. That’s actually why we went to FItche, in addition to wanting to see her, because she is doing an art therapy program for orphan children in her town. Kyle and I are both interested in doing a similar program in our respective towns, so we wanted to check it out. Kyle wants to do the program with children, many orphans, from the rural area of his town. I am hoping to adapt the program to adults in the Dilla Prison. Her program was great. Doing art for kids here is extremely difficult, though, because it is just so foreign to them. Artistic expression, any kind of creativity is not encouraged here so one is ever challenged to think abstractly or even to just think for themselves. It’s one of the things that frustrates me the most about living here. So the kids didn’t always understand the instructions, they were often just drawing what the person next to them was drawing, but they were so happy to have real colors to use. Karen had crayons and colored pencils sent from the States and I am confident it was the first time any of those children had used them before. It is going to take time for them to feel comfortable expressing themselves through art, but I think it was already a success. And I think these are the programs that are going to change Ethiopians’ mentalities so that progress and innovation may be possible from within the country, rather than always initiated by international organizations. I can only hope.
So thank you family and friends for the calls, the cards, the presents, etc. Even though I am far away, I felt extremely loved for my birthday. More updates (hopefully) coming soon! Love and miss you all!
Oh, and I got bit by a dog…but I’m ok!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Benny's July Message
July 16, 2009
Well, I guess the first order of business for this month’s blog is to wish you all a HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!! It’s rather odd celebrating a strictly American holiday in another country (particularly one that has never really been colonized so therefore doesn’t really get the excitement of an independence day), but I must say that the PCVs in Ethiopia did our country proud on the 4th. We had about 15 volunteers meet up in Hawassa to celebrate and it was awesome. Chris hosted at his new house, which is on this AMAZING compound with another American guy, his Ethiopian wife, and their 2 month old baby girl. They built this huge tree house with tons of cushions to sit on, complete with a little baby pet monkey! Unfortunately, the monkey kept getting into people’s drinks (we made a 20L bucket of gin and mango tang with pieces of pineapple…don’t knock it ‘til you try it) and it got very drunk.
A couple of us split up the shopping and I worked the grills (which I brought from my home on the bus) and grilled hot dogs (canned viennas) and cheeseburgers (4 ½ lbs. of meat that I minced myself…ugh). CR and I also made french fries and bought some potato chips. We listened to Michael Jackson (RIP) all day, eating , drinking, playing games, and had a wonderful time. When it got dark, we lit some sparklers and roman candles that Kyle found in his town. It was such a wonderful day, it really was the next best thing to being at home with my family.
After the holiday it was right back to “work”. I have been pretty busy lately having lots of meetings, but I don’t know how much is actually happening. This week I was no-showed by two different people. It’s so frustrating because my town is big and hot and I go most places by foot (enduring all the attention) and to arrive to find the person isn’t there, and is even in a different city, is so annoying! Everyone just laughs about “Habesha time” and that it’s part of their culture, but I think it’s an inconsiderate aspect of their culture. I guess I am just going to have to start dropping in on people rather than making appointments.
However, I have had some pretty great accomplishments. Last week I gave a half-day training on HIV and ART (anti-retroviral therapy) to a group of 40 medical students and about 10 staff from the health center. I was really nervous (hello? No medical background here…poli-sci major?) but I think it went really well. I covered so much material: the basics but also epidemiology statistics; the correlation of STIs and HIV; social factors contributing to the spread of HIV; the life cycle of the virus inside the body; different illnesses, infections, and diseases caused through the different stages of HIV taking over the body; and ART drugs available in Ethiopia, how they work and what side affects they have. At the end of the training, I administered a short test to see what the students had learned. Ethiopian students (even medical ones…scary!) are notorious for openly cheating on tests, but all but three students got more than 50% of the questions correct. I gave out certificates to the students afterwards (everyone always wants proof that they did something) and overall I think it was a success. I think there will be another group of students coming from a different college after these ones so I am sure I will do it again.
Another highlight is that kids are finally starting to call me by my name! A group of girls that have Koran class every afternoon at a home located between my office and the health center, always run out to hug me yelling “Benny, Benny!” Ok, so they don’t actually know my name, but it’s close enough and I am becoming quite fond of it. The lady at my “supermarket” also calls me Benny. I guess it’s easier than Bonnie to remember, although logically, I can’t figure out why. For a while I was determined for people to learn my actual name, since I am more than fond of it (way to go Mama and Dad), but I have decided to be grateful for what I can get. So from now on, my name in town is Benny. Maybe I can find a group of street kids to follow me around and be my “Jets”. :)
So I think that’s all the updates for now. I am loving and missing you all as always.
More belated birthdays to:
Uncle Pat!! (June 21)
Aunty Kate!! (June 27)
Tony!! (June 29) – and congrats on the engagement!
George/G!! (July 3)
Also, special congratulations to my cousins Melissa, Maura, and Catherine on their high school graduations!!! I’m so proud :)
Ok, so that was going to be the end of my blog (which I intended to post today but there was no power) but something just happened that was too funny to wait until next month. So it’s Friday night and, as I mentioned, there is no power. After hours of reading my book and running out of things to occupy my time, I decide to lie in bed and read through all the cards I have received since I left for Ethiopia. As I am getting all wrapped up in a blanket of warm fuzziness and appreciation for how loved I am (not an actual blanket, of course, it’s hot and no fan), one of my candles burns out. I light a new candle and while I am trying to make it stick to my make-shift candle holder (a piece of cardboard), I knock it over. I scramble to grab it before it falls and in my haste, allow my hair to dip into the fire from the other candle. The smell of burning hair alerted me to my blunder (the smell which still lingers in my room). I laughed, joking to myself that I guess it’s finally time for me to cut my hair again, which I had been putting off. However, the best part is that as I am plucking burnt, shriveled shards of my hair away, in literally less than twenty seconds, the power comes back on. Moments like these can only be summed up by two words: Peace Corps.
Well, I guess the first order of business for this month’s blog is to wish you all a HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!! It’s rather odd celebrating a strictly American holiday in another country (particularly one that has never really been colonized so therefore doesn’t really get the excitement of an independence day), but I must say that the PCVs in Ethiopia did our country proud on the 4th. We had about 15 volunteers meet up in Hawassa to celebrate and it was awesome. Chris hosted at his new house, which is on this AMAZING compound with another American guy, his Ethiopian wife, and their 2 month old baby girl. They built this huge tree house with tons of cushions to sit on, complete with a little baby pet monkey! Unfortunately, the monkey kept getting into people’s drinks (we made a 20L bucket of gin and mango tang with pieces of pineapple…don’t knock it ‘til you try it) and it got very drunk.
A couple of us split up the shopping and I worked the grills (which I brought from my home on the bus) and grilled hot dogs (canned viennas) and cheeseburgers (4 ½ lbs. of meat that I minced myself…ugh). CR and I also made french fries and bought some potato chips. We listened to Michael Jackson (RIP) all day, eating , drinking, playing games, and had a wonderful time. When it got dark, we lit some sparklers and roman candles that Kyle found in his town. It was such a wonderful day, it really was the next best thing to being at home with my family.
After the holiday it was right back to “work”. I have been pretty busy lately having lots of meetings, but I don’t know how much is actually happening. This week I was no-showed by two different people. It’s so frustrating because my town is big and hot and I go most places by foot (enduring all the attention) and to arrive to find the person isn’t there, and is even in a different city, is so annoying! Everyone just laughs about “Habesha time” and that it’s part of their culture, but I think it’s an inconsiderate aspect of their culture. I guess I am just going to have to start dropping in on people rather than making appointments.
However, I have had some pretty great accomplishments. Last week I gave a half-day training on HIV and ART (anti-retroviral therapy) to a group of 40 medical students and about 10 staff from the health center. I was really nervous (hello? No medical background here…poli-sci major?) but I think it went really well. I covered so much material: the basics but also epidemiology statistics; the correlation of STIs and HIV; social factors contributing to the spread of HIV; the life cycle of the virus inside the body; different illnesses, infections, and diseases caused through the different stages of HIV taking over the body; and ART drugs available in Ethiopia, how they work and what side affects they have. At the end of the training, I administered a short test to see what the students had learned. Ethiopian students (even medical ones…scary!) are notorious for openly cheating on tests, but all but three students got more than 50% of the questions correct. I gave out certificates to the students afterwards (everyone always wants proof that they did something) and overall I think it was a success. I think there will be another group of students coming from a different college after these ones so I am sure I will do it again.
Another highlight is that kids are finally starting to call me by my name! A group of girls that have Koran class every afternoon at a home located between my office and the health center, always run out to hug me yelling “Benny, Benny!” Ok, so they don’t actually know my name, but it’s close enough and I am becoming quite fond of it. The lady at my “supermarket” also calls me Benny. I guess it’s easier than Bonnie to remember, although logically, I can’t figure out why. For a while I was determined for people to learn my actual name, since I am more than fond of it (way to go Mama and Dad), but I have decided to be grateful for what I can get. So from now on, my name in town is Benny. Maybe I can find a group of street kids to follow me around and be my “Jets”. :)
So I think that’s all the updates for now. I am loving and missing you all as always.
More belated birthdays to:
Uncle Pat!! (June 21)
Aunty Kate!! (June 27)
Tony!! (June 29) – and congrats on the engagement!
George/G!! (July 3)
Also, special congratulations to my cousins Melissa, Maura, and Catherine on their high school graduations!!! I’m so proud :)
Ok, so that was going to be the end of my blog (which I intended to post today but there was no power) but something just happened that was too funny to wait until next month. So it’s Friday night and, as I mentioned, there is no power. After hours of reading my book and running out of things to occupy my time, I decide to lie in bed and read through all the cards I have received since I left for Ethiopia. As I am getting all wrapped up in a blanket of warm fuzziness and appreciation for how loved I am (not an actual blanket, of course, it’s hot and no fan), one of my candles burns out. I light a new candle and while I am trying to make it stick to my make-shift candle holder (a piece of cardboard), I knock it over. I scramble to grab it before it falls and in my haste, allow my hair to dip into the fire from the other candle. The smell of burning hair alerted me to my blunder (the smell which still lingers in my room). I laughed, joking to myself that I guess it’s finally time for me to cut my hair again, which I had been putting off. However, the best part is that as I am plucking burnt, shriveled shards of my hair away, in literally less than twenty seconds, the power comes back on. Moments like these can only be summed up by two words: Peace Corps.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
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