Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Devil in the Details

There's a saying something like that, right? If not, it's probably a Bones episode title.

Regardless, I've spent time thinking about what exactly about Ethiopia is so charming, and it's obviously a lot of big things- the beautiful, generous people, the cultural diversity, and the amazing landscapes and wildlife, among others. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to remember those though, so I've come up with a few things that add to the experience and that I might not necessarily remember if I don't write about it.

These are eight things that add to the quirky charm of every day life in Ethiopia, in no particular order.

1. The police don't seem to have cars, except in bigger cities, so you can spot them catching rides on motorbikes, just like everyone else. They also stand on the side of the highway and wait for the buses to stop so they can check to make sure there aren't too many passengers. The occasional bus driver may or may not happen to see them there.

2. "Selam no?" "Inden no?" "Denna no?" Ethiopians love their greetings and sometimes it seems like half the conversation is made up of the parties asking if the other is fine. Americans ask about the weather when there isn't anything else to say... Ethiopians just ask how you're doing three more times.

3. The whole country is a BYOTP party. Only the fanciest hotels provide toilet paper, and even that isn't a sure thing. I always make sure to have some on me. In case you were wondering, you probably don't want to keep it in your pocket with fresh picked spicy peppers, and regardless of how terrible your  dysentery is making you feel, make sure to grab a few sheets on your way to the clinic, just in case.

4. Outside of the big cities like Addis and Awassa, the traffic is far more dependent on four legged back ups than it is on four wheeled back ups. Even in the big cities you'll see horses and donkeys hanging out in the middle of the road, and goats taking naps in the median.

5. Haggling. As I was leaving a hotel, a bajaj driver offered 30 birr, which I declined, so he offered me a very special deal: only 50 birr! Eventually, I convinced him that I was serious about not paying anything more than a local would pay, and I was so proud of myself.

6. In Konso, when a person is sick and can't walk, they make a wooden stretcher, wrap 'em up, and tie 'em on. The further they go through town, the bigger the crowd following them along. I was glad to have a friend clarify that they were sick people, and not corpses, like I'd previously thought.

7. Time travel! Ethiopia runs on it's own calendar that is eight years behind ours, so it's 2005 there. They also tell time differently- being so close to the equator, the days are a fairly consistent twelve hours throughout the year, and so the clock starts at 12, which is our 6 am. It takes some getting used to, and I've only made appointments and been surprised when the person showed up six hours early a couple of times.

8. Safety is of the utmost concern. Evidence: Maaaaaaaybe one in fifty motorcyclists wears a helmet, almost always of the construction site variety. Additionally, the welders in Konso protect their faces- using cardboard squares with holes for their eyes/sunglasses which hold the contraption on their faces.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Call Me the Pied Piper of Ethiopian Children

...except, y'know, I left them all where they were, completely unharmed. And ignoring the fact that every ferenji walking around town gets the same treatment.

 
 

This is one of my favorite kid photos, even though I have dozens of them.

One Sunday (the only day I wasn't workin' hard), the other volunteers and I trekked the short distance from SF to town, grabbed some breakfast (egg and avocado on fresh made bread) and meandered for a bit. They hadn't seen the market area before, so we wandered down there, even though there wasn't much to see because market days are Monday and Saturday. As we were leaving, we met a group of seven or eight kids, who were positively delighted to run up and say hello to the ferenjis. I'd picked up enough Amharic to ask their names and have a very short conversation, full of giggles and confusion, and then we continued on our way- but not alone.

These two handsome fellows followed us back the kilometer or so that we walked, smiling widely the entire time. We were making a quick stop at the cultural center before heading home, so I asked them if I could take a photo, and little red shirted man their on the right puffed up his chest in his best imitation of a world-class body builder and strode up to his friend to pose. I handed them a couple of birr for the photo, and off they ran, back to their friends (cousins? siblings?) by the market place.

On a side note, I happened upon a couple of Ethiopian Peace Corps volunteer blogs, and I felt a little less guilty for some of the lingering negative feelings I have about my experience, knowing that it isn't just me who gets frustrated with the constant attention, or the very common expectation that because you're a white person, you should hand things out all the time. Now that I'm home, those things don't matter much, but it was a very real, very hard, part of being there.

More photos to come!

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Happy Birthday 'Merica!

Fear not, I made it back to the good ol' US of A safe and sound, and free of unwanted adventures. As for wanted adventures, there were plenty of those!

In the two plus weeks I've been back, I've spent sometime in Virginia with la familia, had a very successful job interview in North Carolina, and over indulged in as much chocolate as I've been able to get my hands on.

I have yet to really sort through all my photos, but I'll be working on that and sharing some of my favorites here in the next few weeks.

Now go eat some grilled food, enjoy the sticky hot humidity (if you're lucky enough to be on the beautiful East Coast!), and watch some fireworks.