Japanese-American Gatherings

I don’t even know how to start this post, because I cannot remember exactly how the story began. I’ve known a few of the jica (Japanese volunteer organization) volunteers in neighboring towns since my first week at site when we ran into each other on the street one day. But knowing they existed in nearby towns meant that I could mention them by name, but I didn’t know anything about them. Then Peace Corps Group 3 arrived at sites, placed in neighboring towns with jica and sometime after that officially began the Peace Corps-jica friendship gatherings.

It began as a cultural food exchange dinner. The first month the jica members prepared an impressive spread of Japanese food, and the next month it was our turn to show them some good ol’ American food.  We’ve also climbed a nearby mountain together and continued organizing a monthly meal since the summer. We even branched out one month and met for a koica (Korean volunteer organization) member’s birthday in Bahir Dar and had over six nationalities represented!

Somehow we’ve managed to never have our meeting in Dangila though, and since we now have two jica volunteers and I have a fancy new house to entertain in, we decided to have the December (and my final) gathering at my house! Our meetings have evolved into potluck lunches or dinners where we wind up with a wonderful mix of cultural food from America and Japan. Yesterday we met at my house around noon to eat lunch, and since Taishi, who lives in my compound, still doesn’t have a stove (he is going to buy mine) I offered for the jica guys to come cook at my house.

There were four Peace Corps Volunteers, four jica members and Aregach, the Ethiopian representative. Cultural exchange with our Japanese neighbors doesn’t exactly fit into one of the Peace Corps goals, but it counts for something we figure. Nevertheless, I would never not invite Aregach to hangout when my friends come into town because she loves to try to understand our speedy English conversations, and observe our foreign antics.  It never occurred to me during that lunch just how strange this situation was for Aregach, but the next day when I went to tell my former co-teacher, Yibeltal, about the lunch, he said Aregach had already told him.  She reported the details of our party to Yibeltal first thing, surprised by how we each brought food and some even brought it to prepare at my house!

I suppose the idea of potluck or BYO… Food is normal to us, but it just doesn’t fit into the Ethiopian culture of hosting. To look at our gathering from an Ethiopian point-of-view it is bizarre that I, as host, not only expected others to bring food, but also that they, as guests, would think of coming to make food in my home! But as she sat there to take it all in, and taste the treats, Aregach didn’t mention a word about her amazement. It makes me laugh in hindsight to realize how strange our lunch was to her.   Sharing this concept of potluck with Aregach certainly does fit Peace Corps goals! And Yibeltal suggested that next time she should bring Ethiopian food! I think it is wonderful that Aregach was able to experience our international food event, but also that jica and Peace Corps volunteers were once again able to enjoy each other’s culinary talents! I will certainly miss these get-togethers, and hope to one day taste that Japanese food on its home soil.

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.