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.