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.