Finding My Role

I have officially been at my sight for one month! This is a very exciting milestone, because now we are allowed to travel within our respective zones.  The first month we could not leave our site, even for a day trip, in order to integrate into the community and build a foundation.  Just one month later, I am proud to say that I now call my two-room oasis my home.  I have not written a lot this past month, mostly because internet is rare in my town, but that does not mean there was a lack of stories and adventures, so I will try to catch you up with all my recent happenings.

My bedroom, outfitted with a fancy blue mosquito net.

Let me start by explaining my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Dangila.  It is a little bit like trying to explain what a cow does all day, who really knows? (Note: most analogies these days will coincide with animals that now live in my compound).  A massive cow, with rather intimidating horns, lives in my compound at night.  Each morning a man comes into the compound and takes the cow away, much to the dismay of the baby calf that also lives here.  Each night the same man returns the cow and it strolls past my door nonchalantly swinging its head, and weapons, as it walks.  “Where does it go all day? What is it doing?” I ask myself nightly.  I am sure it is working and being useful, but I have no idea what it accomplishes.  This cow is like me. I am not sure where I go each day, but I know I leave each morning and return each evening having accomplished things.  I might buy a new bucket, or eat at my favorite juice house, or chat it up with the post office worker, or drink eight-too-many cups of sugary coffee with new friends; each day is a little different than the last, one of my favorite parts of living in Ethiopia.

This is one of my main struggles as I try to explain my role to my supervisor across a large language and cultural barrier. My role is, well, undefined.  I am here to work on HIV/AIDS and other health related ‘projects.’  A project could be anything from helping with a HIV testing campaign, to teaching English in a high school, to organizing an income-generating activity for orphans.  The hard part is that in order for a project to be sustainable (i.e., it won’t collapse when I leave in two years) you need community involvement and motivated people to work with.  This means that during the day I spend a lot of time getting to know various community members, and hoping motivated people come to me seeking assistance or information.

While my host organization is HAPCO, they are a non-implementing organization, so they may serve as a good resource and link to other community members, but I do not work a 9-5 desk job with them (despite my supervisor’s wishes).  That is another issue I am dealing with; almost two months ago all 40 volunteers from my training class spent three days in the capital, Addis Ababa, meeting our counterparts and sitting through informational sessions on how we as volunteers will be working with our host organizations.  Unfortunately, my counterpart had moved towns by the time I returned to Dangila three weeks later, leaving my only other contact, my supervisor, making comments like, “you are late to work!”

One of my favorite days yet; working at a HIV testing event in the rural area with my supervisor.

HAPCO was generous enough to donate an office desk and chair for me to work at when I am in the office, but since our office was the size of a cubicle, where three people already worked (with only two desks), my supervisor asked the government building across the street for an extra office.  By this point, several “this is what I do” conversations later, I thought he understood that I would not be sitting in the office for 8 hours a day simply reading a book and writing letters (I try to limit that time to just a couple hours daily). However, when he said, “this will be your new office, but they say you can only have it if you sit here in the morning and the afternoon,” I realized we still had a problem.  Sitting in the office with the other Ethiopians for a few hours each day served as time to get to know my co-workers and ask plenty of questions in order to try to figure out what exactly the office does, but sitting in an office across the street, by myself, for the whole day would be completely pointless.  Things managed to work themselves out though, and all four of us at HAPCO transferred over to the new and bigger office they originally wanted to give just to me.

The police station is that lovely two-tone building.

This would be a good time to explain the location of the old HAPCO office. It was in the police station.  Please disregard any mental images that have just come to your mind that resemble the set of “NYPD Blue” or the like. Instead, picture a small compound of mud-walled rooms that open into a common outdoor ‘hallway.’  At the end of this hallway is a room surrounded by a simple wooden fence where petty criminals are held before being released or taken to jail.  If I arrived at the office to find my office door locked (which happens often when people decide to take tea breaks) the policemen sitting facing the prisoner area holding their rather large guns would insist that I take one of their chairs and chat with them until my co-workers return.  Despite having some rather entertaining conversations and making friends with the entire police force, I am very glad we were able to move offices.

Communication is always tough, even with my supervisor who speaks very good English.  I realize though that my role is somewhat bizarre even to Americans, who understand my language and culture.  Just the other day, on our first official move-in day to the new office, which is in the same complex as the mayor’s office, I spent the morning helping move office furniture across the street, and then sat in the office until lunchtime.  After lunch, I ran some errands and visited some Ethiopian friends to have coffee at their house, which they invited me to do a week before.  The next day, the mayor’s assistant, a friend of mine, came in and told me, “You were not here yesterday afternoon!” I smiled, nodded, and repeated my key phrase, “Oh, yes, the community is my office! All of Dangila!”  I am still hoping one day they will get it!

I will be sure to let you know as soon as I figure out what that cow, and what I am doing in Dangila.