I am not forget until the end of my life

I walked towards the center of town to meet my two campers feeling the weight of my heavy backpack and the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I assured the camper’s parents that everything would be alright one last time as we hopped aboard a mini bus headed for Bahir Dar. I realized the campers must be feeling nervous too so I talked to them in basic English for a short while but then we sat for the remainder of the ride in silence, although my head was buzzing with thoughts of things to come.

We met the other campers in Bahir Dar and then loaded aboard our camp bus destined for Gondar where we would be staying for the next 6 nights. I felt a weight lifted as I met up with the other Peace Corps volunteers knowing we were all in this together; it wasn’t just me and the teenagers! But I watched around me as the campers sat quietly next to strangers knowing their nervousness still sat upon their shoulders.

The bus full of campers heading towards Gondar.

Five nights later I watched the same group of campers circle around to decide how to keep their friendships strong after they departed from camp and I watched tears roll down their faces as they hugged goodbye. I’m not sure if the 16 of us volunteers will ever fully grasp what kind of impact we had on those 29 students in five short days, but we won’t soon forget the experience.

Logistically things went about as smoothly as we could have hoped for the first summer camp any of us had organized from scratch. The five full days of camp were divided by theme: Independence Day, Gender Day, Leadership Day, Health Day and Lifeskills Day. Labor was divided as well and we all jumped in to help where we could. Each morning started off with yoga at 7am which was a new type of exercise for the campers but they really loved it. Sessions throughout the day were split between classroom activities and more lively activities to keep them energized. Every night a few counselors (PCVs) were “on duty” until midnight to check for lights off (and make sure campers were in their own rooms!). Overall, the days were long and by the end we were all exhausted!

All of the campers and Peace Corps volunteers.

I could write an entire blog entry for each day but I won’t bore you with the details. I'm hoping these pictures can show you a piece of summer camp, which will tell you more than my blog ever could. I can only accurately account for that week with a cliché: it was life-changing. I know that 29 young Ethiopians never forget how to “peel the banana” (if you don’t know, don’t ask) or give out “firecrackers” or do mountain pose, but I pray they’ll never forget that they can be leaders, and that men and women are equal, and that they can never say “I can’t.” I’ll leave you with my favorite quote from camper evaluations: “I love you more than me the American Peace Court; I am sorry because you are leave me tomorrow; I am not forget until the end of my life.”

Me with my campers from Dangila.

 

Farewells and New Faces

About a week ago all the volunteers were able to welcome their new site neighbors from Peace Corps Group 3 during their week-long site visit. I am very excited that two nearby towns will have volunteers from the new group. Towns just twenty minutes north of Dangila, and thirty minutes south, by bus, welcomed new volunteers! It just so happened that the new group had their Site Visit week during many of Group 1 volunteer’s last week at site. While this makes for a convenient handoff of furniture and goods for sites with replacement volunteers, it also was a dose of reality about all the changes taking place. The whirlwind of transition all around me is hard to absorb from my viewpoint in the eye of the storm. I was able to say goodbye to a couple of Group 1 friends during the week, and the farewells were certainly hard to take. Seeing neighbors, and confidants, depart from this adventure was bitter sweet. They will be missed. It is a turning point in my time here; changing from second-in-command to leaders-of-the-pack. Now it is my group’s turn to dole out advice and pretend we know what we’re doing. And in many ways I don’t feel ready to do that. But I also realize that it is just part of the Peace Corps lifecycle, and it is a required step so that one day I too will return to America… or somewhere. With all of this change, and the approach of the one-year mark away from home, I am happy to report that I am finding my place in the world. I still cannot describe a “typical day” and I haven’t a clue what I want to do upon finishing my service, but I like the pace of life here, and couldn’t imagine leaving quite yet. That being said, one year away from my family has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure. And in less than a month now I have the privilege of introducing my family to Ethiopia (and visiting Tanzania and Egypt with them!). It is a trip of a lifetime, and cannot wait to reunite with them, have an adventure, and show them my new home.

Site Placement

As I mentally freaked out a little a couple days before finding out my site placement, the weight of this reality bore down on my thoughts.  I was about to find out where I would be living for two years.  I also felt somewhat nervous as I soaked in the enormity of this unknown; I have never in my life been assigned a place to live for two years. I chose my college, I chose my foreign study location, but this huge decision hangs in the air without my final input.  Then I realized that this was the exact same anxiety I was harvesting just six months ago as I awaited that stuffed white Peace Corps envelope in the mail labeled boldly, "INVITATION."  I was constantly staring at a map of the entire continent of Africa pondering what my future had in store for me, and now here I am, five weeks into my life in Ethiopia—the simple matter of what town I am placed seems like a minor decision.

I am here in Ethiopia with the Peace Corps; I surrendered major decision-making privileges long ago, which is also exactly what I needed.  As a recent college graduate, I could not place that next tack in my bulletin-board map-of-the-world myself.  I was in need of a passion and a destination, which is why I joined Peace Corps.  For a while, I added countries and cities to my "Must See" list without a cause or reason, and now I can envision a life abroad with meaning and adventure both.  I did not choose Ethiopia as my new home, but after living here for just over one month I already love this country.  I am filled with purpose just by being here is Ethiopia and yet again I find myself unable to place that next exact location on the map for myself.  Peace Corps has once more intervened to guide my footsteps, and I am so grateful for that direction.
 

I just found out my site placement!

My home for the next two years is Dangila, Ethiopia.  I am so excited about my placement! Here is pretty much all I know about it so far: It is a smaller town (population of approximately 50,000), it is in the Amhara Region (which means I will continue learning Amharic), it is only a couple hours away from Bahir Dar (a bigger city where I can access some Western amenities).  My Ethiopia Bradt tour book mentions my town once when instructing people how to get from Debre Markos to Bahir Dar.  "There is plenty of budget accommodation in Dangila in the unlikely event you were to get stuck there overnight."  Haha.  Despite the negative tone in that small passage, I am very excited to be 'off the map' a little bit.  All my site placement requests were met and I am very grateful for that.
 
My direct counterpart that I will be working with is HAPCO, and I was told today that there is a very motivated Women's Group in the town that wants to work with me as well.  I look forward to finally getting my feet wet in this whole process by spending next week in Dangila! The information is still vague, but that again is part of being a PCV.  When I do move to site in the middle of February, the town truly is a blank canvas and I anticipate using my creativity to help in any way I can. As for now, my three main goals next week are to open a bank account, set up a PO Box, and buy a bed.  I will update when I can from Dangila, which I am told has occasional internet. Wish me luck!

Melkam Genna! Merry Christmas!

A little belated, I know, but Ethiopian Christmas was just celebrated yesterday (January 7).  I was very excited to have the day off class, and unsure of what to expect from the much-anticipated holiday.  There was not a huge build-up like in America with lights and decorations adorning the streets and houses a month beforehand, in fact little evidence of the holiday was present prior to January 7.  My sister's house produced a small Christmas tree the day of Christmas, but it was hardly a part of their celebration.  I was actually very puzzled by the lack of happenings on Christmas day.

Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of chickens killed, and several trainee friends helped kill goats at their respective houses in preparation for the big day.  But all in all it was, well, very much like an American Christmas in the fact that there was just a whole lot of lazing around!  There were no presents exchanged or football on TV, but the mass quantities of food and family gathering felt very normal.  I suppose food and family are universal for celebration.  After getting the chickens cooking in the morning, we proceeded to watch TV and eat for several hours.  I escaped to my friend's host family to see if they were doing anything out of the ordinary, but they too were just hanging out.  It really felt like an average Sunday in Ethiopia.

The liveliest festivity of the day was celebrating my host brother's 5th birthday! In the afternoon several relatives and neighbors came over with their children to join the party.  We sang several songs, lit-up a big "5" candle, took many pictures, and cheered loudly.  Each guest was served a plate with a small slice of cake, a cookie, cholo dabbo bits, and popcorn.  The cake, like all cake I have tasted in Ethiopia, is far more delightful to look at than to taste.  It is a shame really, that so much sugar is spooned into a single cup of coffee and yet the bakery lacks a drop! The cookie was a decent attempt at a Keebler treat, and the cholo dabbo are these tiny little pieces of cookie about the size of rice.  By the end of the day, I was sufficiently stuffed with Ethiopian food!
 

It was a semi-uneventful day, but through each meal I learned more about the Ethiopian culture.  I have been told that several other Christian holidays are the source of larger festivities, such as Easter and locally celebrated Timkat.  I look forward to celebrating those holidays with my new town later this year.

That being said, I still do not know where I will be living for the next 2 years!  This week feels like it is inching along though because all the trainees are looking forward to Saturday when they tell us our site placements!  Last weekend we had our second and final placement interview where they asked us a little about our site preferences.  Many people had requests such as a toilet, shower, internet, etc, but I came up with two main requests.  I want to work with HIV Prevention mainly, and I want a smaller town (which was later defined as a town the size of Ambo, where I am training or smaller).  I also mentioned that I like learning Amharic, but I think everyone mentioned that one.  There are several regions we could be placed where a smaller language may be necessary, but we will not know that for sure until after our Site Visit.

This Saturday not only reveals my home for the next two years, but it also brings training to its halfway mark! I cannot believe I have been living in Ambo for five weeks already, and I really cannot believe that I only will be living here for four more weeks.  Of the remaining five weeks, one whole week will be spent visiting my new site and meeting with my counterpart organization (during week 7 of my 10 training weeks).  I can only imagine how fast the time will fly!

Celebrating the Holidays

For the first time in a long time, I cannot say "Wow! The year has just flown by!" The opposite in fact, as I revisited memories from 2008; I cannot believe I managed to fit so much into one year! I had an amazing last semester of college, travelled Asia for a couple months, spent four wonderful months at home in Atlanta, and to top it all off I can check off month one of 27 in Ethiopia.  I cannot believe that I have only been here a month. I am so thankful for all the blessings in my life and all the adventures I was able to have this past year.

In order to properly welcome in 2009 the Peace Corps Trainees were itching for a night away from our host families.  And while the 9pm curfew on Christmas was respected for the most part, New Year’s Eve is just not the same if you cannot count backwards from 10 to 1 at midnight.  So with some dedicated PCTs and some slightly complicated bi-lingual party-planning, the 40 trainees were able to split the cost of a "meeting room" at the back of the pool area of a local hotel. Even more complicated, I anticipated, was communicating this slumber party plan to my host family, but surprisingly there was no problem.

It was a bizarre feeling being a 22-year-old having to ask permission to spend the night away from home, but it was also incredibly liberating to just feel like an American again for one night.  I would not consider anything here "normal" compared to the American equivalent, but packing that overnight bag felt incredibly refreshing. The night turned out to be one of the best New Year's Eve I have ever celebrated; a brief oasis in the middle of the desert.  My night of freedom partnered with the delivery of my first package (thanks mom and dad!) made me think for just a moment that things were normal.  In these high-stress situations, you need things like that to ground you.

Bonfire at our New Years celebration!

New Year’s Day was also wonderful, having just two hours of class and lunch at the school, and then we were able to enjoy the rest of the beautiful day.  Typically, January 1 is not spent at a pool lounging in the hot sun and jumping off rickety diving boards (in America at least), but it was the perfect first day of this much-anticipated new year!  I pray that each of you had a wonderful New Year celebration as well, and that 2009 is filled with joy and purpose.

Confusing Calendar

Adjusting to Ethiopia is continuing well, and I estimate that it will take approximately 26 more months to become completely acclimated to the culture and language.  Each day in class I learn something new about Ethiopia that makes me say to myself, "Oooooh! My Ethiopian family makes a little more sense now!"  I will attempt to summarize a couple of the cultural differences I am learning about so you can begin to understand Ethiopia a little bit better.

Time Schedules:
Well, let's first start with the Ethiopian calendar.  Most of the world has adopted the Gregorian calendar that contains the 12-month-system I have known my whole life.  Ethiopia remains on a completely separate system.  Their calendar has 12 months, each with 30 days, and then a 13th month with just five days (or six if it is a leap year, which, of course, does not coincide with the Gregorian leap year).  It's not that simple though, their calendar begins on the day we call September 11.  And, it's still 2001.

Thoroughly confused yet?
The time is also different!  When the sun rises (6am) here it is 12:00.  The day progresses accordingly, so what we refer to as noon is 6:00 in Ethiopia.  This means making a simple plan with your family for dinner involves a quick time calculation.  This also makes conveying that "New Years" is approaching incredibly difficult, as here it is four months into their year.  Christmas had its own complications as well since the religions here celebrate it on January 7 (Gregorian calendar).  Ok, my head hurts now.

Punctuality:
Being on time here is not exactly a priority.  Many times meetings are made by just naming a day in the future you care to meet and then just showing up at the person's workplace sometime that day.  And I have been told that sometimes the person you want to meet with may then be out of town or away for a few hours without a precise schedule.  As someone who is typically running slightly behind schedule, you would think that this culture would embrace me whole-heartedly, but it is not that simple.  Being a ferenji, I am expected to have a plan and stick to it.
 
Just the other day a note was given to the host families detailing our Christmas plans.  Peace Corps took us to Lake Wenchi for the day for a little adventure and a day off of school on Christmas Day.  That night they had a dinner for us at a nearby hotel, which the note said, lasts until 9pm.  Well, after our white-elephant gift exchange ended and we finally concluded our night of mini-celebration, I arrived home a little after 10pm.  I was received with less-than-open-arms and I even got a "shame shame" finger point! Oops!  

At our Peace Corps Christmas gift exchange.

Spending Christmas away from home was hard enough without having disappointed the host family by exceeding my curfew.  The following morning I waited for my breakfast, which is usually ready around 7:30am, so I can leave by 7:40am and make the 20-minute walk to the Technical College by 8am.  At 7:55am I decided to just leave my compound assuming there would be no breakfast, and I grabbed a Fiber One granola bar from the small stash I have remaining.  As I walked out of my compound I ran into my sister who was apparently just about to serve me breakfast, and through broken Amharic, she just could not understand why breakfast was not my first priority.  This confrontation went on a few minutes and I finally left in tears; my first Ethiopia breakdown.

The situation alone was not stressful enough to trigger crying, but paired with the scolding the night before, realizing I missed American Christmas, and my failure to communicate "I am late" caused my world to momentarily fall apart.  I spent that day picking up the pieces and being consoled by incredibly supportive new friends.  When all is said and done, this breakdown will undoubtedly pale in comparison to future breakdowns; crying is just one of my coping mechanisms.  That night though my sister gave me an envelope with a singing Christmas card inside, along with a couple pieces of chocolate.  It made the events of the previous 24-hours seem so insignificant.  Things will inevitably get lost in translation. If it isn't my lack of punctuality, or minimal knowledge of Amharic, it will certainly be the difference in clocks and calendars.  Nevertheless, it is all a part of being a Peace Corps volunteer!

Walking on Cultural Eggshells

We have been taught repeatedly how communication is different in Ethiopia.  Americans tend to tell it like it is, very directly, while Ethiopians would rather just let you continue doing something incorrectly as to not embarrass or correct you.  For example, when making a request it is common for an Ethiopian to respond in English "It is possible," but what they really mean is the American "maybe, "aka "not likely."  This past week we learned the Amharic word that actually means "it is possible" and to humor ourselves the volunteers have begun liberally throwing it into conversations just as the Ethiopians do with the English equivalent.

So in order to not offend any of the Ethiopian, I try to avoid those possible conflicts and cultural faux pas.  In language class this week while learning to conjugate the verb "to pass" and "to hand" I realized just how carefully I was treading around my Ethiopian family.  I began thinking about those words and found myself  zoning out of class thinking, I would never ask anyone in my family here to pass me something at dinner or make a special request. For one, I usually eat alone before everyone else, so it is not like there is a big table full of plates to pass around.

In America if I was over at a friend's house for dinner, I would feel comfortable politely asking my host for, let's say, a glass of water. I would be confident in my ability to communicate my gratitude for the act, and I understand the culture enough to know that this is an appropriate request.  I am also aware that this request would take a minute at the most with just a turn of a handle.

Now let's look at this same situation at my average dinner in Ethiopia.  I could fumble through the verb conjugations for making the request for a glass of water, in which it is likely that I would call my sister a "he" and I would inevitably forget the word for "please."  In addition, asking for a glass of water unexpectedly here would require a lengthy process of heating the charcoal, collecting water from the outside faucet, and bringing the water to a boil.  Phew!  I already usually eat before everyone and feel like people are waiting on me, which is awkward enough without additional requests.

This was my whole thought process while in language class as an excuse for not learning the words for making such requests.  At the end of this mental exercise I realized how much I have been walking on cultural eggshells in Ethiopia.  I also realized that these excuses were just that, excuses.  I will inevitably step on toes here, and mispronounce just about every word I learn, but luckily Ferenji (foreigners) get quite the learning curve as long as you don't mind the Habesha (Ethiopians) chuckle along the way.  Will I ask for that glass of water at dinner tonight?  "It is possible."

Home Delicious Home

As I mentally scanned my adventures over the past week, nothing seemed bizarrely appropriate to write about at first. The last week has flown by so fast that things here are beginning to feel normal in a way.  The last few nights though the Trainees have been getting together to continue a mini-celebration of Christmas by watching Holiday movies, which has brought me back to the reality of my situation.  Christmas sans cold weather, colorful lights and the smell of an Evergreen in your living room just feels like pretending it is Christmas in July.

Before I get all nostalgic about American Christmas, I will get back to telling you about life in Ethiopia!  Last week I remembered a dream for the first time since leaving home in which I had this incredible shower.  Since then I have also dreamed I had a chance to go home and pack another suitcase, and another wonderful dream just about getting to wear jeans.  Simple pleasures in the States are now boosted to luxury status.

The hardest word yet. Trying repeating that one!

The Amharic lessons are coming along, and each day I feel slightly more prepared to live here for two years.  Don't get me wrong, it is also one of the hardest and most frustrating things I have ever had to endure, but sharing that pain with 39 other volunteers helps ease the stress.  Walking home the other day with a fellow trainee we realized that we knew the word for "home" and the word for "sweet," and we came up with "Bit Yetafetal Bit," Home Sweet Home.  After some deliberation, we realized that it actually translated "Home Delicious Home," which funny enough is the opposite of reality.  While injera (the sour-pancake eaten at every meal) is growing on me, so is my longing for Taco Bell and Chick-Fil-A.  In fact, that is now a common leisure activity between classes, naming the food you miss the most.
 

In other news, last Sunday (our only full day off the whole week), a group of around 30 of us decided to climb to the top of the mountain just outside of town.  For those of you who know Greenville, this is no Paris Mountain.  The Tulle Mountains run a few Kilometers away from Ambo, which allow for gorgeous picturesque views from anywhere in town.  We headed out at 7:30am following a local guide carrying an AK-47.  Four grueling hours later, we reached the top to the mountain.  The already-high altitude of Ambo combined with a lack of exercise for weeks now led to one of the hardest hikes of my life!  Let's just say I will never look at those mountains the same way ever again.  The view was breathtaking though, and if internet ever seems to move faster than that seven-hour hike, I will be sure to upload a picture or two.

Life here is definitely different, and never less than a grand adventure.  I am constantly discovering new things about life here in Ethiopia and the culture never ceases to amaze me.  I just found out today that the shed in the back of my compound houses a massive cow, which my mom milks to get the butter that has been in most of my meals since arriving here!  "Endaaaay??" I asked ("Ohhhhh?").  I had no idea!  The work that goes into each meal is immeasurable.  I am loving these new discoveries and I am enjoying being further accepted into this society each and every day.

Ene Yaselam Guad Nen

My language group during class.

"I am Peace Corps" we were taught to say in Amharic.  It was an attempt to teach us how to ask what someone's profession is, and tell ours in return, but the literal translation of "Peace Group" usually elicits more confusion than understanding.  My Amharic is coming along.  I am attending daily language sessions with Tigist, my Ethiopian teacher, and three other volunteers in my community cluster.  The combination of a formal class and living with a family that speaks very little English affords me a great opportunity for practice, which is the only way to truly learn a language!

This past weekend was somewhat anticipated, and somewhat dreaded.  Sunday brought our first completely free day, and many of the volunteers were unsure about spending the entire day with host families.  Overall, it did not really seem like a weekend except for my much-needed two-hour nap.  Spending free time here can come in a variety of activities, and unless you can finagle some quality alone time in your locked room, you are guaranteed to be prodded by the local children for money, and attention. I have befriended a few children on my block and they walk with me for about 5 minutes on my walk home, which is completely entertaining.

                                                                                               
Saturday afternoon, after school, I had lunch with other PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) at a café in town.  One local juice treat is called spreece, which means "mixed" in Amharic, and depending on the café, you never know what you are going to get.  It usually consists of a variety of fruit pureed into this thick, slightly chilled (if you are lucky), juice that you eat with a spoon.  I know it sounds unappetizing, but the main fruit used is avocado.  Puree avocado sans guacamole seasoning did not sound like a treat to me either at first, but one bite and I was hooked!  Yesterday's juice also had guava, pineapple, mango, and banana layered -- so delicious!  After juice and a bit of local cuisine for lunch I returned home where it was promised I could watch/help them make Dura Wat, a famous traditional meal in Ethiopia.

A little background: women here do all the housework and cooking, and as a guest I am usually lumped into the pool with the men, so I had to specifically ask to help with the cooking.  I spend most of my time with my sister, Almaz, at her sister's nearby house, with mostly girl cousins and sisters.  It is a lot of women -- most of them in their twenties.  So I enjoyed joining in to help with the cooking and finally be seen as "one of the girls."

Kids here play with their food too...

Dura Wat (and, by the way, I am completely spelling all these Amharic terms phonetically, and most likely incorrectly) is a chicken dish served on injera.  More background: injera is this slightly sour dough mixture made into thin pancakes and eaten at every meal in place of using silverware.  You simply use the injera to gather up bites of food and eat with your hands—actually not nearly as simple as the locals make it look.

So, Saturday I helped make Dura Wat at my sister's house.  It was an all-afternoon affair, which included killing the chicken that had woken me up for days, preparing a bucket-full of onions, grinding up hot peppers mortar-and-pistol-style, adding a healthy amount of oil, and stirring a pot for hours.  I took plenty of pictures, taught my host-nephew how to use an iPod, and was completely enthralled by the lengthy process.  I cannot believe the amount of work that goes into making one dish; needless to say, I savored every bit of dinner that night.

Outside the Ethiopian Orthodox church service.

Sunday I experienced an Ethiopian Christian Orthodox church, learned how to make injera, had the inaugural meeting of a PCT Bible Study, hand-washed/line-dried my clothes, and even fit in a nap!  Every second of every day is a cultural learning experience (nap included because I fell asleep to the sound of cows mooing and Amharic chatter nearby).

I love the adventure and challenge that comes with every day, and I chuckle at the things I now consider normal:  Dodging the baby cow in the grassy area of my complex, fashioning on my head lamp and rolling up a handful of toilet paper before making the short trek to the latrine, holding hands with random little children that approach me on my walk to school, sleeping beneath a mosquito net each night (well, that last one actually just makes me feel like a little princess).

There are so many more stories to tell, and culture to explain, but dinner is almost ready and this post is getting long! My address for training is still posted on the right of the blog.  Mail is loved, so please send me something.  The process is slow, but I will try to respond via email or letter to all items received.  Much Ethiopian love.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

The town we are training in, Ambo, has a population of around 50,000 people, which means it is big enough to get lost, but also small enough to be known.   Six mornings a week I make the 30-minute walk to the Technical College here our training classes are held.  By now, all the volunteers are used to hearing "ferenji" (foreigner) yelled by the children along the way; or simply, "You! You!"

 
In true Jennifer fashion, I found myself running late on the fifth day of class.  The first day I was wide-awake and ready an hour early, and somehow over the next few days I found a routine, got comfortable, and misread the time schedule, so I was forced to pay the 1 Birr for a taxi to school.  Given, most things around here are on "Africa Time," I was not too worried.  I also did not feel like speed walking the main road having to fend off the "ferenji" calls for twenty minutes, so I opted to take a taxi, and experience the adventure that would come with it.  I had been in a taxi the first day with a couple other volunteers and one of their host brothers as a translator.  I saw how it went down; I knew how much it cost, so I figured it couldn't be that hard.

Within a minute of walking on the main road, I made friends with this man who had books in his hand, thinking he was heading to the college as well.  He wound up having a different destination, but helped me nonetheless.  Before I knew it, I hopped in a car with a couple locals and drove the short distance down the main road where I was dropped off at the Technical College. Simple!

 That night I was at dinner with my sisters trying to absorb as much Amharic as possible when one sister spoke up, "You took taxi!"  I was startled for a minute and nodded along, "Yes, taxi. Technical college.  Awo." (I typically use a mix of Amharic and select English words I know they will recognize).  Then more was said in Amharic and all the sisters burst out laughing as the sister told the story of my taxi ride to the others.  They somehow knew the whole story.  I was late, I took a taxi.  It seemed simple and ordinary enough, but they thought it was hilarious.  I still do not know how they knew about my taxi ride, but with the growing number of strangers calling "Jennifer" as I pass by, I suppose word is spreading about the ferenji girl on my street.  In the end, I am proud that I took a taxi by myself, and I am happy to provide my section of town with something to talk about!

                    

My Life as a Roller Coaster

I have never in my life been on such a ride before.  Every day, every minute is a new emotion as I discover my new life here in Ethiopia.  This is something I never anticipated or prepared for, but I am trying to accept and process each new and mixed emotion as it comes.  I feel like I am on the edge of a breakdown one minute and completely at home the next.  The smallest gesture or smile will bring a tear to my eye, and most of the time I cannot figure out if I am happy, sad or overwhelmed.
 
All of these emotions have made me question my whole experience, which is also something I did not prepare for.  I have been so certain that Peace Corps is the right choice for me for months now, and so it never crossed my mind that I would question things once I got here.  However, I now find myself questioning who I am, why I am here, what my purpose in life really is, and how I can truly help this world.

 
I have also realized in the past week that I love a grand challenge.  I have experienced more bizarre moments throughout this past week than I have in the whole of my life prior to this week.  I am living with an Ethiopian family, who does not speak English, and whose customs are vastly different from anything I have experienced before. I have bathed from a bucket, dodged cattle on the main road of my town, and survived a pit latrine.  I would say I am adjusting to the culture pretty well.

 

The group of 40 Peace Corps volunteers has been scattered around the town of Ambo, Ethiopia living with host families for the next 10 weeks. Each day we spend hours in class learning the local Amharic language, cultural lessons, and technical job training.  Each night we return home to our host families where just about anything is bound to happen.  The other volunteers are such a great support group; hearing everyone's incredibly different host family stories and bonding through our shared awkward moments thus far is vital.  I value these new friendships and their support through this roller coaster of emotions.

 
Tonight is night three with my host family, the Bokosa Family (although they do not have a family name like at home, but Bokosa is my host father's name).  I am still figuring out how everyone is related as they do not have a word in Amharic for cousin, so each new relative is translated to me as brother or sister.  My main liaison is Almaz, my host family sister, who is in her late twenties and her son Naboni, who will turn five on Christmas (which is January 7th here).   We spend much of the time with her 5 "sisters" who are all around her age and live about a block away.  It is a group of wonderful women and when we visit with them only one thing is guaranteed: plenty of laughing!  I am pretty sure a majority of the laughing is directed towards me and my broken Amharic, but when I step out of the situation I realize how hilarious this whole thing is and I join in the laughter.

 
My family here has seen pictures of all of those wonderful people I love back home.  I showed them the small photo album I brought and explained in broken Amharic/English each picture. They all smiled so big at the end and said "Conjo. Conjo."  It means good; beautiful; the best. They are right.

Arriving in Ethiopia

 After making a medical stop for malaria pills and a shot, we were dropped off on the curb of Dulles airport with our piles of luggage.  A very long single-file line later and we had checked our big suitcases into Ethiopian Airlines and each received our precious plane ticket.  I have been eating "last meals" three times a day for a couple months now, but finally it was time to truly eat our last American meal for 27 months.  I awarded that honor to an airport cheeseburger and French fries.

I hardly slept on the 15-hour trip but I was entertained by the scenery as our "non-stop" flight landed in Rome to refuel for an hour.  I had just a peak at Italy before continuing to our final destination.  As we flew over Egypt I kept looking over Sammy in his window seat, mesmerized by the desert below.  

We arrived in Addis at 7:30 pm, and I still did not fully comprehend the distance we had just traveled.  Peace Corps staff met us and we all piled our luggage onto carts, each piece identified with a traditional red yarn tied to it.  We exited customs pushing our carts in a single-file line like a line of ants carrying their weights-worth of precious matter.  The crowd that was gathered outside customs waiting for their arriving loved ones, was so similar to the airport in Atlanta, and yet with all eyes on us it didn't feel the same in any way.

We followed our PC staff to our buses in the parking lot and about half way there the parking lot lights completely shut off.  Completely pitch black.  Several people found packed-away flashlights allowing us to continue and eventually the lights came back on.  Some subtle, and some not-so-subtle differences on the way to the hotel added to my initial cultural impression.  Ethiopians are more caring than anyone I have ever met…. But be careful crossing the streets!  I noticed huge intersections without traffic lights and open meat markets like you could not find in the States.  I also couldn't believe how helpful the hotel staff was towards us, hauling our over-weight bags up three flights of stairs faster than I could walk it!

 
Since our arrival we have continued with our orientation in various areas to prepare us for the departure to Ambo on Sunday.  In Ambo we will move in with host families and attend training classes that include culture, health and language for 10 weeks.  Considering we are volunteers, I have been so impressed with the amount of goodies we have been provided.  Not only have I been completely full with delicious food since stepping foot here, but we were outfitted with cell phones and water purification kits today. We were also told about our lockable metal trunk, mosquito nets, and buckets awaiting us with our anxious host families.  

I could not be more blessed having this incredible experience.  I have been thinking about my wonderful friends back home a lot lately and hope you are doing well.  Keep in touch and I love each of you!