I cook my meals from scratch each night. I hand wash and line dry my laundry each week. I wake up to a rooster crowing. My walls are made of mud and straw. I boil my water before drinking it. The electricity goes out at least one day a week, not because of an accident, but just because there isn’t enough of it to go around. I bucket-bathe in about a gallon of water. I can see the chickens that lay the eggs I eat. I could go on and on...
Life is different here.
Ethiopians often ask me, “How is America different than here?” I usually chuckle, and with a smile I say, “I’m not sure where to start.” Trying to explain the difference in simple English is almost impossible, but I try, one question at a time.
“Do you have coffee there too?”
“Yes, but we don’t roast our own beans, we drink it is large mugs, and a machine makes it for us.”
I spare the details about how the machine can even have an alarm on it so it is ready as soon as you wake up. Coffee here is a huge part of the culture. Every day most households go through the lengthy process involved in making coffee truly from scratch. My neighbor, and good friend, told me one day while we were in the middle of a coffee ceremony, “Drinking coffee here is a way to fill time.” I could not have said it better, but it is more than that. In America, I would not hesitate to run by Starbucks by myself just because I craved a strong cup of coffee, but here drinking coffee is about spending time with family and friends.
“How is the air condition different?” (They mean the weather).
“Well, we have four seasons. Part of the year it is freezing, and the other half if often hotter than here!”
Average temperature in Dangila is about 80 degrees, although parts of Ethiopia are very hot, and parts are very cold depending on altitude. When it starts to get dark outside it will cool down to about 70 degrees in Dangila, one of my favorite parts of the day. It is usually around that time when the Ethiopians start offering me either scarves and jackets, unable to comprehend that I could find that temperature comfortable in a simple t-shirt. I do not mention that most people in America have machines in their homes that regulate the temperature, typically to this temperature they find unbearable.
“Are there poor people in America?”
“Oh, yes!”
“What? How? I don’t think so.”
I attempt to explain that not all Americans are rich. This one shocks most Ethiopians. The main point I try to emphasize is that in Dangila you can easily buy a meal from the equivalent of US$.60. Therefore, in Ethiopian, you only need to make a few US Dollars each day to live comfortably with a home and food. In America, a cheap meal might be $5, so while people make more money, the cost of living is higher; it is all relative. I’m still trying to make people understand this. I am pretty sure most people still do not believe me.
“Are there rural parts of America?”
“Yep, of course! We have a lot of farmland!”
“Really?”
“Yes, but our farms usually have electricity, and they can easily communicate with urban areas.”
They stare blankly. I think they are trying to picture what this would look like.
“Are you fine?”
Actually, this question is usually asked by people riding by on their bicycles or passing in a mini three-wheeled taxi. I’m not quite sure who taught them this English phrase, or who told them to ask it not as you approach a person, but just as you are past the person you are asking, but it seems like the whole country has picked up on it.
When I get the generic question, “what is America like?” I sometimes mention machines- because we use many machines, I have realized, to do our work for us. Sometimes I talk about the weather. Other times I think about it and realize life is not all that different. In both places, people wake up earlier than they care to and count the hours at the end of the day until we can spend time with friends and family. People still eat food, take baths, wash clothes, and laugh at jokes; it is just the details that are different. If nothing else, those details make this experience completely humbling. I use to complain about having to wash my clothes in a washing machine. Now I respectfully wash my clothes using a handy bucket system I learned from the Ethiopians. I use to dread doing dishes by hand in college. Now I smile as I pour water into buckets and lather the suds to wash each dish without the running water I used to take for granted. It seems like the Ethiopians have taught me more about life so far, than I have taught them.
Life is different here.
Ethiopians bringing home their sheep they purchased at the market. |
Ethiopians often ask me, “How is America different than here?” I usually chuckle, and with a smile I say, “I’m not sure where to start.” Trying to explain the difference in simple English is almost impossible, but I try, one question at a time.
“Do you have coffee there too?”
“Yes, but we don’t roast our own beans, we drink it is large mugs, and a machine makes it for us.”
I spare the details about how the machine can even have an alarm on it so it is ready as soon as you wake up. Coffee here is a huge part of the culture. Every day most households go through the lengthy process involved in making coffee truly from scratch. My neighbor, and good friend, told me one day while we were in the middle of a coffee ceremony, “Drinking coffee here is a way to fill time.” I could not have said it better, but it is more than that. In America, I would not hesitate to run by Starbucks by myself just because I craved a strong cup of coffee, but here drinking coffee is about spending time with family and friends.
“How is the air condition different?” (They mean the weather).
“Well, we have four seasons. Part of the year it is freezing, and the other half if often hotter than here!”
Average temperature in Dangila is about 80 degrees, although parts of Ethiopia are very hot, and parts are very cold depending on altitude. When it starts to get dark outside it will cool down to about 70 degrees in Dangila, one of my favorite parts of the day. It is usually around that time when the Ethiopians start offering me either scarves and jackets, unable to comprehend that I could find that temperature comfortable in a simple t-shirt. I do not mention that most people in America have machines in their homes that regulate the temperature, typically to this temperature they find unbearable.
“Are there poor people in America?”
“Oh, yes!”
“What? How? I don’t think so.”
I attempt to explain that not all Americans are rich. This one shocks most Ethiopians. The main point I try to emphasize is that in Dangila you can easily buy a meal from the equivalent of US$.60. Therefore, in Ethiopian, you only need to make a few US Dollars each day to live comfortably with a home and food. In America, a cheap meal might be $5, so while people make more money, the cost of living is higher; it is all relative. I’m still trying to make people understand this. I am pretty sure most people still do not believe me.
“Are there rural parts of America?”
“Yep, of course! We have a lot of farmland!”
“Really?”
“Yes, but our farms usually have electricity, and they can easily communicate with urban areas.”
They stare blankly. I think they are trying to picture what this would look like.
“Are you fine?”
Actually, this question is usually asked by people riding by on their bicycles or passing in a mini three-wheeled taxi. I’m not quite sure who taught them this English phrase, or who told them to ask it not as you approach a person, but just as you are past the person you are asking, but it seems like the whole country has picked up on it.
When I get the generic question, “what is America like?” I sometimes mention machines- because we use many machines, I have realized, to do our work for us. Sometimes I talk about the weather. Other times I think about it and realize life is not all that different. In both places, people wake up earlier than they care to and count the hours at the end of the day until we can spend time with friends and family. People still eat food, take baths, wash clothes, and laugh at jokes; it is just the details that are different. If nothing else, those details make this experience completely humbling. I use to complain about having to wash my clothes in a washing machine. Now I respectfully wash my clothes using a handy bucket system I learned from the Ethiopians. I use to dread doing dishes by hand in college. Now I smile as I pour water into buckets and lather the suds to wash each dish without the running water I used to take for granted. It seems like the Ethiopians have taught me more about life so far, than I have taught them.