Swearing In & Vlog #10

It happened, ITS OFFICIAL!!! We are Peace Corps volunteers!!!! I've been dreaming about this moment since... September 2012, when I was studying abroad in Argentina and my boyfriend at the time told me about the organization. I applied February 2013, got my invite February 2014 and now I'm here and its official! God is good!!

"If you cant stop thinking about it DON'T STOP WORKING FOR IT!!!!

Vlog #10 On Swearing in and Night life in Addis

Vlog #8 and #9

I've got some catching up to do with my vlogs....so heres two! 

Vlog #8

and Vlog #9

Saying goodbye to Butajira

My first home in Africa

PST (Pre Service Training) is coming to a close and its a little hard to believe that I'm going to be leaving this little town that has become a home to me. I'm eagerly awaiting moving to my site of Wolisso, and living on my own, but I will miss Butajira and the routine I've grown accustomed to. I'm dreading saying goodbye to my host family... I hate goodbyes. But I feel so fortunate to have met such wonderful people who willingly took me into their homes and made me a member of their family.

My host family has been an intregal part of my Peace Corps experience thus far. I arrived in country 3 months ago, unable to speak a word of Amharic, not knowing how to wash my clothes, or survive in Ethiopia and my family helped to teach me all of that. It takes a special kind of person to take in an absolute stranger, let alone one from another country who does not speak your langauge.

I will be forever grateful for the hospitality, love and Godliness that these people have shown me. They have opened my eyes to a whole new world, a new way of living life and living out the gospel. I will miss them, but I know I will come back to visit before my two years are up :)

Now its time to see what Wolisso has in store for me over the next two years...

Inate (My host mom) Emebet

My adorable host sister Betselot. Africas next top model.

Towards the outskirts of town

The view from my bedroom window

One of the classrooms at the preparatory school where we taught during PST

The crater lake I would often hike to with my PC friends

My first pet chicken! He died 2 weeks later.

Fun with my baby chick. He thought my hair was a birds nest -_-

The town of Butajira

Rats & Being unsure

It’s rainy season in Butajira. The air is moist, clouds hang heavy and low and the ground is perpetually muddy and wet. I wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of heavy rains hitting my tin roof and lightening striking the ground. My earplugs have become my most prized possession. They help stifle the sound of rain on a tin roof, which can be earsplitting-ly loud. And when it doesn't rain, they help keep out the sounds of hyenas howling or even worse, the sounds the rats make running around in my ceiling. 

Ive had several day dreams about a rat or two falling through my ceiling, and what I would do in such a horrific moment. This train of thought isn't too far fetched…especially when you look at your ceiling and can see each step a rat takes. And you CAN see this… The first time I saw it, I refused to believe it was a rat making such obvious imprints in the ceiling above me. Id watch dents appear from one end of the ceiling and go to the other, following each step.

“Tota?” monkey? I asked my inat (Mom), pointing to the ceiling that had come alive, bending and denting under the weight of a large mammal.

“Aye…” No. she replied. “How do you say.. uhmm Rat.”

My eyes grew large with fear. How thin is this celing thats separating this rat from me?! I can clearly see the imprints of rats walking above, so it must be WAAYY to thin for comfort,  or these rats are WAYY to big. Either way, this is not good news.

“Do you have rats walking around on your roof or in your ceiling at night?” I asked another PCV.

“OMG Ashley! YESS! and you will not believe it, but 3 days ago I saw one fall through! It was the middle of the day and I just see a big black blur fall from the ceiling! It was so scary!” She replied.

“Are you serious! OH MY GOD, that is so disgusting! What did you do? My family told me that the rats never fall through because they don't like people and they don't want to come down into the house!!”

“Well I don't know if it came down into the house on purpose…” she laughs, “but I just ran and told my family. They all started laughing at me, so I just locked myself in my room and put clothing against the door so it couldn't squeeze into my room at night.”

…… O.o

Since this conversation, I always sleep with earplugs in my ear ALWAYS, even when its not raining. They allow me to tune everything out, so that Im not jumping at every sound I hear throughout the night, driving myself mad thinking its a rat rummaging through my bags or falling through my ceiling. This is what my life has become, living in fear of rodents.

Moving into my concrete home in Wolisso never looked so aappealing until now.

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By now I’ve learned which routes to take to walk to school and which to take to go home. I shouldn't walk down this street or that man will approach me begging for money…If I go down here I’ll get bombarded by children trying to hug me. ( which sounds pleasant, but when they are covered in snot and dirt, its not very nice…)

But I mainly base my walking routes on the few town crazies that I try to avoid. On the street next to my house, there's a vampire beggar man with tattered clothing, bloodshot red and yellow eyes that walks with a slight limp. He walks the muddy streets barefoot, his smile reveals a few missing teeth, but I can tell his smile is genuine. He seems kind enough, but he has made me feel awkward on several occasions, so I avoid him.

He has asked me for money several times, but his pleas seem to stem from a weird sense of entitlement…and I have noticed this from several beggars I’ve met. 
Its really strange.

They ask, but in their asking their attitudes say “You SHOULD give me this” “It is your duty” “You owe me this” “You can afford to help me because you are American”

But it has got me thinking….Is it my duty? Do I owe my community something just because I’m American? As a Christian, should I be passing out money to people? In one of my post, I quoted Luke 12:48,  and I know Jesus says to serve the least of these, to give to the poor, and I thought I was doing all of that by coming here to teach, by coming here to spread his love and heart. But is it enough? Can I do more?

Some of the people here seem to feel as if I owe them. And i don't know if its their pleading that makes me feel uncomfortable, or my own sense of guilt.

Surely I can't help everyone. It is not within my means to, and even if I could I do not think handing out money is the answer. Throwing money at a problem is never the answer, I’ve learned this from my short missions trip expert, Charlotte, who is also a dear friend, and from classes I’ve taken at my church. But the reality of living here, in Africa, where the poverty is very real because it is in your face 24/7 just makes things complicated. As a Peace Corps volunteer I am here to help foster developmental programs, sustainable programs that can offer real change and “help the people here, to help themselves”. But its hard to do that when you know any change you might inspire, or programs you help build, wont really come into fruition till years down the line. That any work you do and any lives you try to impact, wont bear fruit that you will see, because your two years in Peace Corps will be up.

I guess all I can do is pray. Pray for guidance and an answer that I’m doing enough. Pray to hear His voice more clearly and for stronger faith . Unwavering faith that reassures me that the seeds I plant will bear fruit.

Vlog #7 Lake Langano

My oh my look at these flies

It is pretty easy to identify differences between life in Ethiopia, and life in America. Some of the differences are monumental, like the food, or the religious vigor and tolerance EVERYONE seems to have here.  

And then there are the smaller, more subtle differences that I find very entertaining.

 Like the flies that just land on peoples faces and sit there. lol I know this sounds weird, and trust me it is very weird. But the flies here just walk around on the faces of children, like they would walk on a piece of bread back home.

I have seen flies just roaming all over a child's face. Kids will be in the middle of a conversation and PLOP a fly lands on their forehead and will just wander down to the kids eyeball or mouth, and the kid will not swat it away. They do not shake their heads, they just keep talking and smiling, as if its

not there.

It is a true sight to behold and I am of the opinion that Ethiopians need to do a better job of taming their fly population.  I know that living amongst livestock is the cause of the amount of flies, and the children are just used to them always being there, flying around, and landing on them. But because the flies are used to such docile and un-noticing human beings, they fly towards my face and do not seem to understand why I swat them away.

I swat
They move & try again
I swat
They move & try again

I swear its absolutely insane and I don't have to deal with such bold flies in America. All flies are a tad persistent, but I swear they are not like these flys. I need these Ethiopian flies to understand that I will kill a n*gga lol
.

“Dont follow your heart, follow the Holy Spirit”

I entered my home in Butajira last night around 630pm feeling a little down. Upon walking into our living room, I noticed another new face sitting on the couch. Great…another person to meet, another name I would inevitably forget, and now I have to mentally gather all the Amharic words I know so I can create small talk with this new guy. I was just not in the mood and my family has been having many visitors lately.

I decided to say hello, smile and amuse the man for about 5 min before telling my family that I wanted to take a shower. I made sure to take extra long to gather my towel, soap, flash lights and everything I needed to shower at night time, AND I took a very long shower. Which is really hard to do when its a cold shower and you don't really enjoy being stung by the ice cold water at night. But I was determined to have the guest leave before I had to go back in there, talk and sit with him and my family for 3 cups of coffee, when all I wanted to do was sleep.

When I walked into the room, it seemed like no time had passed at all. Everyone sat in the exact same positions just smiling and laughing and feeling all kinds of happiness that I was apparently missing from my life. Today just wasn't a very cheery day. A kid punched me on purpose, I was craving a ton of foods that aren't found in country, and I had been feeling spiritually deprived for awhile now. I missed the bible studies with my family, I missed praying with my friends, I missed the community I had been building at The Vine, I missed driving in my car while blasting and screaming/singing worship songs. I just missed it all. So I walked into my room, closed the door halfway, and proceeded to just waste the night away alone.

“Ashhh eeyyyy” My inate called.
“Abet” Yes I replied, while heading back into the living room.
“ We will pray” she said with a smile.

“oh…. ok.” I said with a sigh.

My Ethiopian family is very religious and we have had many discussions about their denomination of Christianity and how it relates to my own. In short we have all the same core beliefs, the only difference is their belief that Christians should not sing, dance or listen to music that is not worshiping Jesus. And I cant argue with that, I believe that all things should be done to glorify God, but its not like you’ll go to hell if you shake your groove thang every once in awhile haha. And my family is very charismatic…which I enjoy.

This was not my first time sitting through one of their praying sessions. The first time, a male friend of my abate took out his bible and began preaching. His voice started off steady, even, deep and full of love. He spoke slowly and with emphasis. His speech sped up, as his voice filled with emotion and passion, and as he continued his voice grew louder. He would say certain phrases and my family in unison would say “Amen!” “Amen!”  “Amen!” It was like the “Amens” were rehearsed and everyone knew when to say them, as if on cue. But instead of sounding fake and unauthentic, the agreement and unison “Amen’s”, were deeply moving. And they seemed to grow in vigor with the preachers sermon. I bowed my head, saying my own little prayer, while listening to the man preach and pray out loud in Amharic. Knowing that all of us, from different worlds, speaking different languages, were here together and praying, thanking and loving the same God was incredibly moving. I had no idea what the man was saying, but I felt the holy spirit move that night, I felt the presence of the lord.

But this night I was dragging my feet and just not in the mood. I told myself that this prayer was going to last too long, that it was in Amharic and how did I REALLY know what they were praying about, or praying too?

The man began his sermon, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, telling myself that i was just going to plan my day for tomorrow instead of listening. When I began hearing the mans voice, and noticed that he was speaking in English!

“1st Genesis says that God is the creator of all. He has made you, he has made everything, and it is good.”

I looked up at him and smiled. And he continued.

“Because the Holy spirit is in you, and you are in God, you are greater than anything in this world. Than any satanic thing and you have power over it! Greater is he that is in you! He has life planned for you, and all good things…”

And he continued. His sermon was mainly in Amharic, but every few sentences, he would translate and change it into English. And I knew he was doing it just for me. I knew my family brought this man, their friend, into our house to preach just for me. And I was overcome with joy.

“ Amen!” “Amen!” I shouted as he preached his broken English, and my family laughed, because I was the one saying the “Amen’s” this time.

My heart was overcome with gratitude. My sour mood and negative thoughts dissipated. My spirit was fed, and for the first time in a long time, I really felt at home. As I went to bed that night, I was so filled with emotion that I began to cry. God is so good, and I am so blessed… and I hope my inate doesn't hear me crying now, or this is going to be really weird and difficult to explain with this language barrier.

Vlog #6

Site visit and the only Ethiopian I dislike

After learning about my future home in Wolliso, Peace Corps set up small cross country trips for all 70 volunteers-in-training to visit their future sites. We all left for Addis Ababa, and from there we would go our separate ways, some flying, and others busing to our new locations. We of course weren't going to be traveling alone, well not yet. Peace Corps had set up English speaking members of our community to meet us in Addis and eventually travel with us to our sites to show us around.

My community member, who shall remain unnamed was very.... odd.

"Hi its so nice to meet you!" I greeted him with a big smile and handshake.
"Hello, wow you are so beautiful!" He replied

Ha ha, I laughed nervously.
"So what do you do in Wolliso?" I inquired.

" I am an English teacher. You will be teaching at the same highschool I work at!" He said with a big grin. "I will show you everything you need to know, and you will be warmly welcomed", he continued as he grabbed both my hands.

"The town will love you. You are so fortunate to be coming to Wolliso! And we are so fortunate to have you!"

There was a lack of personal space during this encounter, and it didnt help that this mans breath was not on point. I have walked passed things on the street that smelled better than his breath. I began timing my breathing to his own inhales and exhales, as to avoid smelling the stench that escaped from his mouth.

"oh wow ok, that sounds so nice."
"Are you married Ashley?" He asked.
"Oh, uhm no I'm not" I replied, reminding myself that asking about marital status was a norm here in Ethiopia and meant nothing special.

"I am not married either!." He said, "Just living the single life!"

I looked at my community liaison again, he clearly was in his late 40's - 50's. Why isn't this man married I wondered... Its very odd for a man his age to be single.

"So have you lived in Wolliso your entire life?" I asked
"Oh no, my family is from Addis Ababa....

and he continued telling me his life story. Every few seconds, as he spoke he would touch my arm, as if to get my attention, but I was already face to face with him, so the touchy-ness bothered me. In the middle of his sentence he pulls out a pen and drops it on the floor. I bend down on one knee to retrieve it for him.

"Oh wow Ashley, you look flexible. This is good." He said with a smile and kind eyes.

What? I wonder to myself. Why is this man telling me I'm flexible?! It's not like I just did the splits! This is just too weird and hes too toucy-feely and I dont like that he's not married. I was just getting weird vibes, so I decided to complain to Peace Corps staff.

"Hey Ayu, my community Liaison is kind of weird and I think hes being very unprofessional. He made a few unsettling comments, told me I was pretty, and flexible, and that hes single, and he keeps touching me! I dont want to overreact, but it makes me feel uncomfortable and I just want to know if this is culturally normal, or if hes trying to hint towards something?" I reported.

"It is very normal to mention marital status and to ask you of yours, but I will speak with him to make sure, and to tell him that the touching makes you uncomfortable, ok?"

The next day things seemed much better. My liaison did not touch me one time, he did not call me pretty or make weird comments, but he was incredibly rude and demanding, and very passive aggressive.

Peace Corps instructed all volunteers and their liaisons to discuss the plan for the following days site visit and to get an idea on our future teaching assignments.

"So what are my options for grades I can teach at the school?" I asked.
"I have already chosen the grade you will teach" my liaison announced. "You will teach grade 9!"

"Oh ok, well that's one idea, but I was hoping I could teach grades 11 and 12" I replied. "I think I would be a better fit - My liaison held his hand up to stop me mid sentence.

"You will teach grade 9, they need it the most. I have discussed it with the principal. Now during the first week you are to watch an Ethiopian teacher to see how they teach a classroom.." he said.

I cant believe this funky breath man, just cut me off mid sentence and already "chose" my grade. Who does he think this is?!  I thought to myself.... Whatever, hes only another English teacher. I'll discuss this with the principal when I visit my site...

"ok I guess we can discuss the grade I will teach later, but as far as observing Ethiopian teachers.. I would prefer to watch a female teacher, to see how a female teacher handles her students".

"No, you will watch me."

"But I think seeing a female teacher will be most beneficial" I said, I was not going down without a fight.

"No, you will watch me."

"I'm sure you are a great teacher, so maybe I will watch you for the first 2 days, and then I will watch a Female teacher."

"Maybe,  that might be good. I might allow it."

Extremely annoyed with my liaison and his lack of respect towards me, I decided to avoid him during lunch and all the breaks we had between sessions. Whenever I saw him, I would smile, and so would he, but there was hate behind both of our eyes. During every conversation when I would discuss what I wanted, he would cut me off mid sentence by holding up his hand. I didn't know if Ayu had talked to him and this is why he was so rude towards me, or if it was just because he was an older man dealing with a younger woman, and he didn't respect me as a coworker due to my age and sex.

"You will love Wolliso!" He enthusiastically said "And the students will love you because you look Ethiopian! Your brown skin and your curly hair, you look just like an Ethiopian, the only difference is that you are HUGE!" He said loudly and with a straight face.

I busted out laughing.

This man thinks he is slick. Culturally Ethiopians often tell their loved ones or friends that they are fat, skinny, ugly or that they have pimples. It is not considered rude to make remarks based on someones appearance. But this guy... I know he doesn't like me. Hes been rude all day and he has worked with peace corps and Americans often enough to know that this is considered mean.

Homeboy just called me fat and thinks he can get away with it under "his culture". I can not believe this.

I just kept laughing.
"Well thank you" I replied.

The following day during site visits I completely ignored the man. He took me to set up a bank account, to meet the Mayor of my soon to be home town, Wolisso,  and to meet the principal and director of my school. I spoke to everyone I encountered in my new town,  I made small talk, I smiled and chatted with them all. But I did not even put on a fake smile for my liaison. After viewing the high school where I will be teaching, and meeting the school director, my liaison did something that still confuses me.

"So, it is my opinion that Ashleys schedule should be the exact same as mine. All her classes should be placed near mine and if I work in the morning shift, she should work in the morning shift!" He told our school director.

What is this dudes deal! I clearly despise him, and he hates me... but why is he telling our director this?! I thought to myself. There is no way I want to work with or near this man, is he just trying to make my next 2 years a living hell?!

As soon as my liaison left the office. I spoke to the director.

"Hi, I heard my liaison say that I should have classes near him and at the same time.. I'm wondering why?"

"uhmm, for social purposes I guess. I think since you both speak good English, that he thinks it will be beneficial for you! You can arrive at school with him and leave for home with him and it will be easier."

"Oh, well you see I would rather work on my Amharic..."

"You do not want to work with him?" My director asked

"Its not that.. its just I already know him. I would much rather work with the other teachers in the school and get to know them..."

"Ok. I understand. Whatever you want!" My director said with a smile.

Thank God I got out of that situation. I never want to see that man and his funky breath again.

I stayed  4 days in Wolisso, walking around and getting to know my community, but after that first day in town with my liaison, I never worked or saw him those entire 4 days. I think he thought I went back to Addis or Butajira by myself. I don't really know and I don't really care. One awesome thing that came from my site visit was briefly seeing my future home! (Pics below)

I move into this house, late September. It is a 1 bedroom home and I am very excited about it.

The 14 year old Maid. and Site Announcements!

   Meet Meheret

 

 This is Meheret, my families seratainya. In Ethiopia it is very common for families to have seratainyas (maids) that do all the cleaning, cooking, and washing in the household. Seratainyas are taught to avoid eye contact, and never look their employers in the eye, especially the men in the family. Sometimes they aren't treated very well, as they are considered "second class citizens". My families seratainya, is treated with kindness, but there are a few things that make me uncomfortable about her situation.

For one, she has the same 3 outfits that she always wears. Her clothes are dirty, worn and tattered. My Ethiopian family isn't very well off, but they all have more clothes than Meheret. She also sleeps in the room with all the animals. It took me awhile to figure out where she was sleeping and living, but when I did, it was hard to ignore. Meherts bed is under the same roof as the chicken coop. The chickens sleep on one side of the room and she sleeps on the other side, the cow also sleeps in the same vicinity. Knowing how kind and loving my family is, it was hard for me to reconcile how they let Meheret live in such conditions, and how most Ethiopians let their Seratainyas live. But I have come to realize that many Seratainyas are saved from much harsher lifes by being taken in and working for other Ethiopian families. Seratainyas are not slaves, they decide to work for their employers and they can quit just as easily. Meheret eats nutritious food, has a roof over her head and is a member of my family here. She is always seen smiling and playing with my other host sister Beselot, and she seems to be very happy. Having Seratainyas is apart of Ethiopian culture and not all Seratainyas are young girls. Many families have grown women with children of their own working for them as the Seratainya. Each case is different and unique, and being a Seratainya is basically the same as being a live in housekeeper.

Meheret is related to my abate in some way. I don't know if she is a niece, or 2nd cousin twice removed. It has not been explained, as I've been told not to pry too much into Meherts history, because it is seen as rude. But I do know that she is family. She grew up in a very rural and poor town and because her family was in poverty and unable to care for her. Their options were to marry her off to an older man, when she was young, or to send her to work as a Seratainya. They of course, did the latter. Meheret is only 14 years old now, or 13.. she is not sure of her age. (Many Ethiopians do not know their exact age) And she has been working for my family for a few years. She is not in school, but she might continue her education in a few years. Seratainyas get paid a meager wage by the family they live and work for, but they are known to save every penny and eventually leave their families to make a life for themselves. Heres to Meheret doing the same :)


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Site Announcements

I am nearing completion of Pre Service Training here in Ethiopia. I’m more than halfway through with this 3 month training and getting closer and closer to my actual Peace Corps Service. With 1 month left to go before I am sent to live on my own in the world, Peace Corps reveals to us trainees where in Ethiopia we will be calling home for the remaining 2 years.

The week was full of anticipation, excitement and worry. The town of Butajira is beautiful, I love the trees, the livestock wondering around and just the feel of the place, but the idea of seeing more of the country is exhilarating.  Will my new town have waterfalls? Elephants or Hippos? Will it be in a rainforest? or atop a snowy mountain?

The possibilities are endless in Ethiopia. Its climate is so varied, its unbelievable.

70 Peace Corps trainees sat in a large conference room of a hotel, just waiting to hear their name be called as our Peace Corps Staff member called out site names and its matching volunteer.

“Remember, that you agreed to serve wherever Peace Corps places you, to be flexible, and understanding. That although many of you told us what you wanted in a site; internet, to be near a certain person, or the size of your city, etc, please know that our first priority in deciding your future placements was finding a job that matched your experience, your needs and vice versa. Remember that you came into Peace Corps Africa to serve, and you promised to do so potentially without Internet, electricity and running water.”

Life is calling. How far will you go?

The Peace Corps slogan ran in my head and a smile slowly spread across my face as I romanticized living my next two years in a mud hut with a thatched roof. Or amongst farmers and their livestock on fertile land. Waterfalls! Elephants! Hippos! A rainforest or snow!! I squealed in anticipation once more.

The names were called and envelops handed out with detailed information about our future sites.

“Amy’s site has a population of ONLY 4,000 people!! She doesn't have running water or internet in her village. Everyone goes to a village well to collect water!”

“Wow, that's going to be an amazing adventure for her! Such a different lifestyle and a true Peace Corps experience.”

“Izzy is living super close to that huge town down south with all the Rastas! Its like a jungle down there, its so green and its where they grow a lot of coffee beans!”

“Izzy is so lucky…but did you hear about Beto? He’s going to be the first Peace Corps volunteer his village has every had! So he might be the first American, his townspeople have ever met and his town has 2,000 people in it, its in the coldest region of Ethiopia on top of a mountain and it snows!!”

These are some of the sites a few of my friends are going to be calling home for the next two years and I was definitely jealous hearing about this entirely new world they would have to grow accustomed too. Their experience is what I imagined my peace corps experience to be like in a way… so when I heard about my future site….

Town:         Welliso
Region:    Oromia
Population:     60k
Nearest city:    Addis Ababa (2-3hr drive)
Site mates:    Yes, 2 site mates
Internet:    Readily available
Cell phone:    Yes
Running water: Yes
Landline:     Yes

Summary:    Been there. Done that. Nothing New. No challenges. No new experiences. Posh    
        corps, not peace corps.

So yeah, I was a little disappointed. My future town is located very close to Addis and Butajira. I knew it couldn't vary much from what I have already experienced in Ethiopia, as far as climate and weather. My dreams of change slowly became uncertain questions. Waterfalls? Elephants? Hippos? Snow?

And I was put in a little bit of a funk. I cried out to my friends in America, and here were their loving responses:

“Girl God, has blessed you! He knows where he wants you to be and I’m sure he knew you couldn't handle that Tarzan lifestyle you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Ashley I understand wanting to experience something different, but you have to remember that you already are! You are earning major street cred with me, I mean you might have internet and everything, but you still have to poop in a hole and wash your clothes by hand out there!”

“Girl, call it all JOY!!”

“If you don't shut up Ashley… oh my goodness I can't believe you’re complaining about having all the amenities that everyone else probably wants!”

“Your dad must have really been praying for you, since you got the hook up!”

and so the comments went. In all honesty they made me laugh, and they did help a bit in there own way. After speaking to a few people I did realize that I was being a huge brat, and I got to really look at all the pros of my future site.

One being:  that when I do want to see what life is like in a REALLY remote part of Ethiopia, Im so close to Addis Ababa, that I'm able to access buses and planes to fly me all over the country anytime I want. :)

SOOO for all those interested.. THIS is the address to my new home!

Ashley Quarles
P.O. Box 79
Oromia Regional State
South - West Shoa Zone
Wolisso Town
Ethiopia


It takes about a month for mail to go through... sometimes longer. (so send things NOW lol) But I'd love to get some letters! or any of these goodies...

 Quaker Oatmeal (HIGH FIBER) I can never have too much of this stuff!! Send as many boxes as you want!                                                     

PowerBars! The Chocolate Peanut Butter kind if you'd be so kind.

 

Justins Hazelnut butter... or Cookie butter. Or Nutella... any will do.

ANY Seasonings

my favorites are:

Garlic salt.

**Italian Seasoning**

Lawrys Seasoning salt

Hot sauce

Soy sauce

 

Poor in wealth but rich in love & being Black in Peace Corps

“Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?  - James 2:5



 a little girl stood and just asking for money as I walked past. I gave her a smile and a prayer. I hope it was enough.

   Sometimes I’ll be reading the word of God and verses that I never noticed before, later stand out to me. Its funny how your circumstances in life determine what your heart and ears are willing and ready to hear. Stumbling across James 2:5 this morning made me immediately think of my host family, and not just them, but every God fearing person I’ve met here in Africa, who in the eyes of the world are seen as poor. 

Sometimes I wonder why these people were chosen to be born on this side of the world, and I, on the other side. Was it just the luck of the draw? Why me and not them? I wonder why my family and friends have so much, and others so little. I have been born into such luxury, while so many others have been born into such hopelessness.The roles could have been so easily reversed.



But then I run across a verse like James 2:5, and I wonder who has really been born into hopelessness.

My family here, and those far worse off than them, are so rich in faith. Strong, proud, God fearing people, with the most beautiful hearts. They give their all, they give their last, they keep giving, although many would say they don’t have anything left to give. They carry a child on their backs, Gods words on their lips, and all the worlds sorrow on their shoulders, and they still smile, they still laugh. Poor in wealth, but rich in love, rich in faith, family and life.

 Part of me wonders if its easier to believe in God when he’s all you have left. Logically I would think, yes it is, but there are so many who, when at their lowest, cry out, wonder why and lose all hope.




I have been so loved, so extremely wealthy, and educated and I know I am called to use my blessings to bless others.

And although I keep telling myself that I am here to help, that I am here to serve and give. I know in my heart of hearts that I have much more to learn from this country and these people than I can ever give back.


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Word is out that Im not Habesha (Ethiopian)

Whenever I walk the streets of Butajira by myself, I get a lot of stares and looks from the townspeople. In a town of 40,000 people, it might be noticeable if a new face shows up in your little neighborhood. So I didn't mind the stares and looks, from children and adults alike. I even had 1 woman and 2 kids, on separate occasions, approach me speaking full blown Amharic, while I just stood there smiling and nodding.

It wasn't until today that I realized why they probably approached me.

 I was walking home, as I do everyday. When 5 neighborhood kids started running toward me. I stood there confused and wondered what was about to happen. When they all got within a few feet of me and began yelling out “Hello” “Hi” “Ferenji” “Hello” “America!” in what appeared to be the only English words they knew.



“Oh… Hi” I said, feeling defeated. The ruse was up. How do they all know that Im not Ethiopian anymore?! I thought to myself, and then it hit me. OH MY GOODNESS! what if the people that approached me before were testing me! And afterwards told everyone I don’t speak the language, and couldn't be Ethiopian.

Wait… maybe there is still a chance… Using my best Amharic I said, “What’s your name?” to one of the girls in the group.

“I am called Kidist” the little girl replied.

“How are you Kidist” I asked, still using my best Amharic.

“Good…” and then she spit out some rapid fire Amharic that I could not catch, but I was determined to not give up so easily…


“In - De - Gah - Na?” (Again, or repeat) I asked, when she just laughed and shook her head as if to say “Mere non-habesha mortal, just stop trying”

“Buh bye” Kidist added, before she ran off with her group.

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Ever since the townspeople figured out that Im not Ethiopian, I have been getting harassed. Its nothing really horrible or bad, but it is a little annoying. I will be walking to class by myself, and grown men will yell out to me:

“America!”
“Ameriiiiicaaaaaa!”

trying to get my attention. Two kids have approached me asking for money in English.


“Give me money!” They say
“You, give MEEEE Money!!” I reply.

I was in the suk (store) once, buying a few things. When I noticed this old man following me around the store, he was maybe in his late 60’s, so I figured I could take him if I had too, but just to play it safe, I promptly left that store, and walked into another one a few feet away. Lo and behold, the old man pops up in that store too!

Feeling a little uneasy now, I began to make a plan… “Ok, other PCV’s should be nearby, class just ended and a lot of people like to go to the restaurant upstairs for wifi, so if I walk quick enough…” But as I was thinking to myself I heard my old man stalker and the store clerk talking.

old man: “ blah blah blah” (Amharic words I did not understand)
“No, she's American” the store clerk replied in English.

What the heck!  Why is the old man asking about me?! AND HOW does this random store clerk know I’m American!!!

Its absolutely ridiculous how fast news spreads in this town, and its even more ridiculous that me being American, can be considered “News”. I still don't have it half as bad as the white female volunteers have it though. At least I have the potential to blend in, whereas they stick out like sore thumbs. One of the girls here felt the need to run from a few Ethiopian men who she says were following her, another was forcefully grabbed by a guy, as he repeatedly demanded that she buy the motorcycle he had with him. She instead resorted to hitting and violently elbowing him off of her. Another volunteer serving in Mozambique, has little kids crying when they see her, because they think she is a “white devil” and they have never seen a white person before. (check out her story HERE, its absolutely hilarious and there are photos!)

If the worst I will get, is a few random guys yelling, “America” out at me, then I will take it.

In all honesty, before signing up for the Peace Corps I was worried about what my experience would be like as an African American Volunteer.

Would my community respect me? Or will they be disappointed that they didn't get a “real American?” Will they value my opinion and advice, or will they think I have nothing to offer them because I am black, just like they are.

I went into Ethiopia, with these little fears and worries, just waiting to see what would happen, but a 3rd year black PCV, helped ease my mind.

“As a black volunteer, you may not get all the Ferengi (foreigner) perks, that the other volunteers get. People may not let you skip lines in the grocery store or bank, kids may not get excited to see you, and sometimes, yes, people will not respect your opinion as much, or think you can really offer change. But you will get the advantage of integrating into your communities faster. You will form friendships quicker than other volunteers and the friendships you do form, will be much deeper. Your community members will share more of their lives with you and through these friendships and relationships you can gain trust and respect. Black volunteers can do just as much as any other type of volunteer, and many times, they do even more.”

Listening to this experienced volunteer share her stories and words of wisdom was very beneficial for me. I was getting so caught up on the negatives that I did not think of the positives. I wanted to serve in Africa particularly, because I wanted to work, live with, and help other black people.

 I want the students that I teach and the community that I work with, to see themselves in me, and I in them. I thought the culture would be richer in Africa, the food - better, and I loved the idea of being surrounded by people who looked just like me.

I never once thought that I’d “feel at home” here, or that I would seamlessly fit in. In fact, being in Africa, has made me realize exactly how “American” I really am. But for some unexplained reason, there is a connection. There is something there, just a comfort perhaps and understanding that although, I am America, I am also Africa.



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Several blog post in one

School started on Monday, July 14th and I was more excited than I thought I’d be to talk to my fellow American volunteers about their Home stay situations.


When I wake up, I get out of bed, grab my toiletry items and go outside to get to the shower, sink and toilet. Although our shower only spouts cold water, I am lucky because my family actually has a shower head, most other PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers) bathe in and with buckets. Taking a cold shower at 6am is no joke…I find myself mentally arguing with myself, and questioning the importance of being clean as goosebumps appear all over my arms, and legs and I shiver uncontrollably. I can go 2 years without a shower right? It cant be THAT critical to my health…



After enduring the pain that is bathing, I finish up with my morning routine and am ready for training class.

I leave our cozy compound, my host dad walks me to school where I  meet up with a few of my PCV friends.


“OMG, how is your family?”
“Did you hear the hyenas last night?”
“Im going to kill the rooster in my compound”
“Did Peace Corps tell our families that Americans love PB&J or something?!”
“Can we get trainings on how to use a shint bet? I was doing a #2 and I kinda missed the hole”

It is comforting and very amusing to swap stories, ask questions and just knowing that there are other people like myself going through the same things here in Ethiopia. By the way, a shint bet is the name for the bathroom here. In my house we have a western toilet, and we also have a shint bet, which is basically an outhouse. An outdoor room, with a cement floor and a hole that you squat over to … do your business.

Our first session entitled “ Homestay Debrief”, was very comical as all 70 of us volunteers openly asked questions to the Experienced Peace Corps staff and the Ethiopian staff members.

“ Alan walked me home last night, and now my family thinks he's my husband… is it culturally inappropriate to hang out with a man or something, unless we are married?”

“I have not used the bathroom since I arrived in Ethiopia 2 weeks ago… Im worried.”

“I have a lot freckles, clearly as you and see, but I don't think my family understands what a freckle is…I think Im the first white person they have seen with freckles. They keep asking me if im in pain… they think im sick or have a disease or something, how do I explain it to them?”



“My host dad told me that he wants me to go to church with him, but I hear its 3 hours long! Do I have to go?”


And the Q&A session continued. I definitely had a few questions, its hard living in a culture that you really know nothing about. Especially when you are staying with a family and knowing that you will end up saying or doing something that they might see as rude or ungrateful.

For example

It seems that there can be a huge culture clash with the dating scene in Ethiopia and social interactions.

*Not that I have been dating, but PC staff tries to give us a very well rounded education on all things culture related, and I found this exercise very interesting. PC grouped off the male PCVs, female PCVs, Male Ethiopian staff, and female Ethiopian staff and had all 4 groups write out signs they look for in the opposite sex that say they want to have sex, and signs they give to the opposite sex, and this is what happened…

The American males & females also made a list, but because most of you reading this are american, im sure you can think of them yourself. What stood out to me right away when I read this list, was that wearing perfume in Ethiopia, might be interpreted by men that I was interested
in sex… my jaw dropped when I read that, but then I smiled, because I realized that now I have even more of a reason not to shower for the next 2 years ;)

Another volunteer was very upset that simply existing and sitting alone at night or in a bar, would give men preconceived notions about her. Being in a bar, showing “too much” skin, playing with your hair and “swinging hips” i.e.: walking lol all = interested female in these guys’ eyes.

Now I know that a select few cannot represent an entire race, but this was done to provide general information and what the majority, especially in traditional, more rural areas might think.


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That sweet release

The chamber pot (orange plastic bucket) next to my bed is ruining me. At first, I ignored it, I decided that I could just hold any bodily fluids that wanted to escape and wait until morning, but eventually it happened. Honestly, it was inevitable, I always have to go at night and i don't know why I thought that would change here in Africa.

Because of my night time ritual of using this chamber pot, my body has 100% fully adapted and  is completely comfortable with peeing in this pot in my bedroom. In fact, synapses fire off in my brain every time I step into my room and I get the urge to pee, it doesn't even have to be nighttime anymore! Now I find myself, in the middle of the day, trying to race out of my bedroom and into the bathroom (which is outside of the house) squiggling, squealing and rubbing my knees together, doing the full pee-pee dance because I just cant hold my bladder anymore.

I can complain about this pot ruining me, or I can be honest and say that its totally liberating. There is nothing quite like squatting over a plastic orange bucket and feeling that sweet release. lol



1 - Africa

0 - America

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Differences

After class today, I headed straight home and found Fantaye (Fan - tie - A) sitting in the living room making bunna (coffee) with 2 other women I did not recognize. Greeting were made, hugs and kisses exchanged and shortly after drinking a few cups of bunna, the unknown women (who turned out to be cousins of my host mom) left.

Fantaye and I, were left in the living room, just sitting and chatting. Fantaye is a 34 year old, friend of my host moms, who is renting out a room here on our compound. She speaks great english, and that reason alone is enough to make me love her.

“Wow I never knew Emebet (my inate/mom) had such a big family”

“Yeah, they are her cousins, they live out in the country and in more rural areas”

“oh ok… and they came all the way here to visit”

“Yes, family is very important here in Ethiopia”

“Yes I’ve noticed that already… things are just different in the US. My family is pretty close, but I think you all have a much healthier family dynamic out here in Ethiopia”

“Well if you dont have your family, what else do you have? It can be a blessing and a curse really. But I’m sure your family is not that different than ours.”

“No, its very different. You told me that Tadele (my abate/dad) bought a cow yesterday because his sister is getting married, and that her fiancé’s family has to come over to the house, to see if we are a wealthy enough family for him to marry into. That is very different than what we do in the states. We do not buy cows to show that we have money, but mainly we don't even get our families approval.”

“What!? You wouldn't want your dads approval? You wouldn't care if your family didn't like your boyfriend?”

“No, I would love his approval, but it just doesn't work that way. My dad doesn't even want to meet the men I date, He said he doesn't want to meet them UNTIL they have already proposed. And no, I don't need approval from my family or anything like that. People get married sometimes without their family even knowing, and without their parents at the wedding.”


“Aww, thats so sad.”

“yeah I guess…Do people ever get married here, even when their family does not approve?”

“Uhm.. sometimes. But mainly only in Addis. Here you have to get the churches approval, and your families.”

“wait, your church has to approve?”

“Yes, if you are dating or want to date, or want to get married, we ask the  pastor for their blessing. People still get married if the church doesn't approve, but they cant get married at the church and its not as nice.”

“Oh wow, well what would you do if you were in love but your pastor told you that he doesn't think you should marry the guy?”

*grimaces* “uhm… I dont know, I guess if I really loved him, I would try convincing the church. But things like that happen all the time here. Remember the boyfriend I told you about?”

“Yes, the one you met at your job, right?”

“Yes. We were together for 3 years before we broke up. And we broke up because his family didn't approve of me.”

“What! 3 years, you were together for 3 years and it ended just because of his family?! Thats crazy… 3 years, he obviously loved you. Why would he care what his family thought?”

“If you marry without your families permission, they can disown you. And one time he did tell me that we should just run away, but I would not like that. What if we have kids, I want them to know their grandparents, their aunts and uncles. And I didn't want to marry into a family like that anyway”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn't like me because of this.” Fantaye points to her leg.

“oh…..”   Fantaye’s left leg is disproportionate to her right. It is smaller, shorter and can not support her weight. Because of this she walks with a metal cane, and has a slight limp.

“Thats absolutely insane. You are intelligent, you have 2 university degrees, an amazing heart and personality and you work in a hospital. You make good money, and have a good job, you speak fluent English!”

“I know, but people see only what they choose too.” She begins tearing up. “Because of this leg, I may never marry. People see it and think I’m cursed, or that I will have kids with the same problem. It is sad, but I pray and believe that there is a family that won’t care when their son wants to marry me.”

I get up to hug her. “Im so sorry Fantaye, but you will find a family that wont care. You are an amazing woman. I would be so mad if I were you, I know your culture and values are different, but I would think that man was such a coward!”

She laughs. “No, he is not, it is not like that. You are right, we are different, and the situation may be harder for a foreigner to understand.”

“I nod my head, yes obviously” I say with a smile and chuckle.

Vlog #3 MY Host Family

My Ethiopian Family

The Bus ride from Addis to Butajira was about 1.5 hours of sleep and 1 hour of me staring out the window at the numbers of crops, donkeys, goat and horses that were sprinkled all throughout Addis and seen more and more as we ventured further into the countryside. I sat in my cramped seat, with two heavy bags, carrying what I considered my most valuable items: my laptop, iPod, kindle, GoPro, and my wallet amongst a few other things.

The drive was calming, the scenery beautiful, and I was anxious to move into this next phase of my Peace Corps life. As we pulled into Butajira, my nerves began to rise and the a flood of thoughts came

“I should have used the bathroom while I was in Addis! Now I have to go, but there will be no flushing toilets. I have to learn how to poop in a hole. POOP IN A HOLE!!!!”

“ Why didn't I study the language more?! Omg i’ve forgotten how to say Hi"


(all words are spelled out phonetically)

AH-MAH-SAY-GUH-NA-LOW

Wait.. No, thats Thank You

SA - LAM       

yeah that works…but wait is that only for Muslim families?! Oh crap im not sure….

DAY - NAH - NESH

yes! I think thats it… but thats only for women, what if my host dad is there?

and I continued to freak out like this until we arrived. When we pulled up to the hotel where we were all supposed to meet our new families, I was ready. My Amharic sucked, but I told myself to just keep smiling, and I think it worked.

After unloading our luggage, 25 of us were told to walk into the restaurant portion of the hotel and to find our host families. The families would be standing up in a line with a name tag… the family with your name tag, was your family for the next 3 months.

My eyes darted from left to right, taking in all the Ethiopian families standing in a row, with big smiles and bright eyes and I searched for my name tag. A stout man with a slight grin and a 4 year old little girl clinging onto his arm was standing to the far left, holding up the name “ASHLEY”.

As soon as I saw him I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and thought

And with that thought, I headed over towards my new AH-BAT (Dad in Amharic). His smile widened, as if with surprise, when he saw my face. I would like to say that maybe he was stunned by my breath taking beauty, but honestly I think he was shocked to see a Black volunteer (There aren't too many of us). We greeted one another with a handshake and a hug, his daughter, Betselot (BEH - SEH -LO) stared blankly at me from behind her fathers leg, and I just continued to smile.

Photo of my lil sis and her Dad.



We took our seats at a nearby table, grabbed a plate of food and began talking… or trying to talk in Amharic.

(translated for your pleasure)


Ashley: Hi, my name is Ashley
Host Dad: ASTH - LEY?
Ashley: *nervous laughter* yes, Ashley. How are you Ms.?
Host Dad: *confused look*
Ashley: Amharic bad. My Mom where
Host Dad: oh My wife is at home
Ashley: Oh Home! Go Home
Host Dad: We can walk, the house is about half a mile. Are you hungry?
Ashley: Food. I don't like injera.
*silence and a smile*
Ashley: Very good. My name is Ashley

But through it all, I just kept smiling.


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After awkward introductions, smiles and eating silently, we boarded the bus together and rode to my new home

Tadele (Tah - Deh - Le) my host father, lives on a compound with his wife, Emebet (Eh-Meh-Bet), their 4 year old daughter Betselot (Beh - She -Lot) and 14 year old relative Meheret (Meh-He-Ret). The compound is very spacious, very green and its gated (yay for privacy). When I walked through the 6 ft tall gates I began to take in my surroundings. The house is very modest, but its surrounded by trees and tall grass. There is a guard dog tied up near the back of the compound and about 6 chickens and 2 roosters running around. A clothesline hangs, strung up from tree to tree and there are about 3 main buildings on this compound, the main house, the kitchen and another building that Im guessing is where Meheret (the 14 year old relative) sleeps.

Map Of Compound

I finally met my host mother and she has such a good spirit and a wonderful smile. She just smiled and laughed as she gave me a tour of her home. Her English is the best, although its very basic and when words failed us, we both took to miming out things we wanted to say.


.View from the front gate.

 My host mom took me to my new bedroom, which is adjacent to the living room, and I began to unpack.
My room is small, like 10x10 feet, its a perfect square with 1 twin sized bed, a wooden bench and a window with a prime location so I can clearly hear the roosters crow in the morning.

photo of the compound I live on. To the Right is the entrance into the main house, to the left is the kitchen.

My families yard in our compound and the dog house.

The "western" Bathroom, we also have a Shint Bet... and Ill explain that one later haha

My bedroom

The view outside my bedroom window

The whole family and 2 other relatives came into my small room and began to hang up my mosquito net for me. I just sat there quietly as a flurry of Amharic words were spoken and people began nailing my Mosquito net into the walls and instructing me on how to take it down during the day.

photo of mosquito net up

These people are so sweet. My Ahbate (dad) and Inate (mom) are both Protestant Christian and let me know that we will be attending Chruch on sunday morning. My Ahbate is an Evangelist, and my Inate is a teacher. I couldn't be happier with how things have turned out, Im excited to see whats in store for the rest of this week and Im determined to make my 4 year old sister more comfortable around me, so far she just stares blankly and clutches to her father.


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Dinner was served around 800pm, and to my surprise only the Dad and myself were served.

“Arent you going to eat with us?” I asked my Inate (mom), she smiled and replied (in english), “I work, no eat now.” And it dawned on me that I was being honored as a guest because I ate first, with the man of the house while the other women worked. Even 4 year old Beselot had to wait to eat. From what I’ve learned Ethiopia is very patriarchal and traditional. The women have their roles to play, and so do the men, but it made me very uncomfortable to be eating alone at the table with my host dad and him only. I’d rather be with the other women, working, cleaning and waiting to eat after my host dad finishes. I know it was only the first day, so I’ll play my role as the guest, but I don't want to be treated as a guest, I want to be a member of the family, not seen as the goofy and non-understanding American. Im here to become Ethiopian, in every sense of the word and I’ll spend the next few months trying to attain this status and become a member of this family.



"Well do you want to pray before we eat?" I asked in English, knowing my Ahbate is a religious man. "Pray!" He said enthusiastically, and he bowed his head and looked at me with a smile. "Oh you want me to pray?" I said nervously, then I cleared my throat and began to pray... "Father I come to you in the name of Jesus, and I ask you to bless this food. I thank you for bringing me into this wonderful home and pray that you watch over me and this family...

As I prayed my mind was reeling with fear that I would say something and offend this man and his family. I was half expecting him to say "GET THEE BEHIND ME SATAN" or something to that effect because although I know he is Protestant Christian, I have no idea what the protocol is for praying in this denomination, or if they pray to the Father, or only to Jesus, or if they have a particular way of praying...there was just so much that could have happened, but instead he only smiled and said "Amen" as the prayer ended and we began to eat.

I asked to be excused to bed after finishing my dinner which was comprised of Spaghetti noodles, homemade bread, and chunks of beef.

“you don’t want bunna (Coffee)” My host dad asked me.
“Oh no thank you” I said.
I had forgotten that its very common to have a bunna ceremony at 9pm here, and although I dont like coffee, especially 30min before Im trying to sleep, Ill make sure to try it next time.

I went into my bedroom, hung up my mosquito net and my Ahbate (dad), watched me as I crawled under the covers. (Him standing there watching me was very weird… i wont lie haha, but I know He just wanted to make sure I did it right. Our host families are told to treat us Americans like know nothing babies, because honestly we are like children and dont know anything when it comes to this culture and its norms.

Before my Ahbate turned off the light in my bedroom, he placed an orange plastic bucket on the floor next to my bed.

“Whats that for” I asked.
“uhh toilet” he said, as he smiled and left.

I really am in the Peace Corps now, I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep.