Sharing Dangila

For over a year and a half I’ve survived, even thrived, on being the only foreigner in Dangila.  Being the only ferengi in a town here certainly has its ups and downs. It almost seems like the easy way, having another person to always talk English to and share hardships with, but since most of us came to Ethiopia not knowing a soul, we want our own experiences.  Many volunteers prefer to have their towns to themselves, not having that constant comparison, not having children call them by the wrong name, and not feeling as if you each have your territory in town.

So two months ago, when a jica (Japanese international corporation association, aka Japanese Peace Corps) car rolled up outside my compound, I met the site development team with eagerness and skepticism.  Dangila is my town, just listen to the kids yelling my name, or ask the mayor, he’ll tell you.  But I’ve known jica for a while, enjoying getting to know the volunteers in neighboring towns, and I have always wondered why Dangila didn’t ever receive a volunteer.  In August, the staff members told me, we’d be receiving two!

Decision made for me, not that I ever thought the decision would be mine.  I had a month to ponder my new ferengi neighbors and decided that I would give them a chance, after all, I had had Dangila to myself for a long time.  Their week-long site visit finally came at the end of July, and after running into one of them on the street I invited the two volunteers and their counterparts to dinner at my house.  Funny story: I didn’t intend to invite four strangers to my house but somehow through broken communication it happened, so I did what any gracious hostess would do, bought a kilo of pasta and started planning my first dinner party.

When the dinner came, only the volunteer I met on the street, Taish, and his counterpart, were able to attend, so it was a good thing that I didn’t start preparing the food until they arrived! This is very Ethiopian I realize, to invite people over and then expect them to wait, and very Peace Corps to expect them to help with preparation, but I really like the idea now.  I made pasta and tomato sauce, as basic as it gets, but to my Japanese and Ethiopian guests it was foreign, and they agreed, delicious!  One interesting development that came from this dinner was that Taish was looking for a house, and it came up that there was a vacancy in my compound (my former house), so I suggested he ask the landlord for details.

Then there was a month of waiting for the jica members to return after training and officially move in.  It was set that Taish would move into my former house, which I was slightly uneasy about, but realized I should accept the new situation and stop being selfish.  And my reasons were just that, selfish; Taish is a perfectly nice person, and I really looked forward to having a new friend in town, but him living in my neighborhood, and in my compound, means that inevitably I will be replaced.  I am the ferengi in my part of town, and more than that, “Jennifer” even means ferengi to many people.  Will I be giving that up when Taish moves in? I thought.  Most volunteers have a difficult time thinking about the next volunteer coming to their town after they leave, and an almost painful feeling about that person just replacing his/her life and slipping into their role with his/her friends and neighbors.

Taish moved in, I finally met Moto, the second volunteer who is still searching for a house, and life hasn’t changed all that much.  I have really embraced the idea of having them in town, and I like getting to know Taish around the compound.  Just last night I had Taish over for dinner (which will likely happen a lot more considering he has no stove and eats mainly bread) and it’s great to talk to him about all the frustrations of life here. We talk in broken English, but through simple words and pantomimes we vented about children, food and funny cultural differences.  We each come from such different cultures ourselves, but we still find the same things odd here in Ethiopia, which is comforting to know!

Nostalgia is kicking in already as I savor each round of coffee and plate of injera.  I already know the next four months will fly by, and thinking about leaving and having a replacement already is sad.  It is nice to know Taish though and have someone here that will be easy to communicate with for the next couple years.  For now he is having to put up with all the comparisons about our Amharic and integration levels, but I have reassured him that in a couple years they’ll have forgotten me and be complimenting his excellence.  It’s a perpetual cycle, but something you deal with as a volunteer here, something I’ve come to terms with, but for the next four months it’s still my turf and I’m going to live it up.