A Few Life Changes

Life around Dangila has changed a lot in the past month.  All of the change was spurred by my landlord and his family moving across town.  Following that, I moved into their old house on my same compound, and a lot of my daily routines have now changed.  Living on my compound now is a woman about my age, whose younger sister (maybe 18 years old) is currently living with her.  Additionally, there is a guard my landlord hired, who is pretty old and whose mumbled Amharic I can barely recognize as the language I’ve been learning for 18 months.

My landlord built this shack in the front yard for the old guard... way to make me feel worse about my big house!

As one of the nearby missionaries said when first seeing him, “wow, he won’t be stopping any thieves quickly,” but he does help with the children who are up to no good.  There is also another worker hired by my landlord to take care of the mama and baby cows on the compound.  He now lives here too, although he is gone all day taking the mama cow somewhere (18 months later I and still don’t know where they go all day).

The guy who takes cares of the cow; Here he is helping me build a fence around my garden.

Word on the street is that 2 Japanese volunteers from the organization “jica” are moving into the compound late in the summer.  I’ll keep you updated about that—could be fun to have new foreign faces around to sympathize with me!

Having the big house is life changing, really.  Let’s start with the fact that the walls are cement! The amount of dust collecting on every little thing is now minimal as compared with my former mud house.  I have BIG windows! The house is so bright and partnered with the yellow walls and shiny white tile floors, it just makes me happy.  I have space for all that “stuff” I have collected.  It’s so nice not having to cram things under my bed.  Plus the extra space allows for fun activities, like yoga or cartwheels, right in my living room!

The tile floors are my favorite part though.  I can walk around barefoot.  I can sit down on the floor and play with Arbay.  I forgot how nice those things can be.  Life is all about the simple pleasures!  But while I love my floor, it isn’t always “shiny” as I described above, especially during muddy season (the rains have begun!).  Which leads me to my other favorite addition to this life of luxury I’m leading: Aragach.

Aragach is one of my students in my English Club.  She is 20 years old, grade 9 student, doesn’t have a father, and her mother has recently hurt her leg and cannot work to support them anymore.  At the beginning of May I started paying her to come once a week to wash my clothes, a chore I never looked forward to, but something I did find therapeutic.  It was also something I took pride in doing, but sometimes you have to take one for the team, so in order to help Aragach (without just giving her money) I decided to overpay her to help me.

Since I moved to the big house, every Saturday she also mops my floor to clean up all those muddy dog prints!  Aragach and I also moved all of my stuff to my new house by ourselves (sans one big piece of furniture we pulled two random guys off the street to help with).  I love having her around, and as much as I haven’t adapted fully to the cultural norm here of just dropping by and lingering uninvited in people’s houses, I really enjoy when she comes by.  She’s becoming like a sister, and she’s such a sweet motivated young woman.

Another big change in life is that when I go out of town, the landlord’s kids take care of Arbay allowing her to stay in their new compound.  It’s kinda fun, like dropping her off at Doggy Day Care!  Since Arbay loves roaming the neighborhood and going off on adventures, just about every day when I’m in town she will walk herself over to the landlord’s new house to hangout.  Once in their compound they don’t let her out (I think they’re afraid she’d get lost or something) so I go by to pick her up.  It works out that most afternoons now she’ll go over there, meaning I still get to see the kids every day.  I usually stay for a little while to play with the kids, which has led to way too many afternoon photo shoots.  

I am feeling more independent in my own compound now which I really like.  I also love having the kids to visit—I think we appreciate each other a lot more now.  I’m sure there will be more changes to come in the next 7 months; for now, I’m happy and adjusted.

Moving Three Meters To The East

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything.  Even now I’m at a lack of words, but while it seems I haven’t been doing much I know stories are abundant.  For 10 days at the end of May all of the volunteers in Ethiopia had a training to consolidate us during the election period.  It was the first time Group 2 and Group 3 volunteers had ever been all together (and also likely the last).  Having about 70 Americans together for over a week was a nice break, although a little overwhelming too.  It definitely could have been a social experiment—seclude 70 Americans in small Ethiopian towns for a year and then bring them all together for a week to see what happens! We’re all so used to being alone or being the only foreigner, that by the end I was definitely ready to go back to Dangila.

My group of volunteers at the consolidation.

We had the training in a small town south of Hawassa called Yirgalem (where my good friend Jordan lived before he left at Christmas time).  For the most part, we spent all of our time (sleeping, eating, training) on this compound, not going into town much.  One of the final days, a few of us decided to go on a hike where we were quickly bombarded with hoards of children.  Wow- reality hit! We were still in Ethiopia! I had been in that compound surrounded by Americans for so long that I almost let myself forget where I was.  Going for a walk in my town, by myself, in familiar territory, is a lot different from a walk in a new town with 4 foreigners!

By the end of the training I was happy to leave but also very aware that life outside that Americanized compound isn’t easy.  It amazed me how fast I forgot that!  I’ve been back in Dangila for a couple weeks now and I’m fully adjusted to life here.  After all, I’m used to the small town life here.  Being surrounded by 70 Americans is fun but it’s not why I’m here.

Speaking of reasons I’m here—one of the main principles of Peace Corps is for volunteers to live at a modest level.  We make a modest salary, live a modest lifestyle, and reside in modest houses.  Except that last one isn’t always true.  For safety reasons a lot of volunteers live in houses bigger than necessary.  While I’ve been living in a modest 18 square meters for a year and a half, an opportunity for improvement presented itself.  Since my landlord moved out, the big house on my compound was vacated.  I bargained a reasonable price for it, received permission from Peace Corps, and moved about 3 meters to the east, tripling my living space.  Best. Decision. Ever.

It’s been fun nesting again, getting all my furniture in order and finally having more space for all the stuff I’ve collected.  And the “stuff” is abundant—I think it’s an American thing because Ethiopians don’t have “stuff” like I do. It’s kind of ridiculous how it accumulates!  It’s nice knowing that for the most part all of it will be staying here and given away a few months down the road.

That doorway leads to the hall... that's right, I have a hall!

All students have exams for the entire month of June, meaning I won’t be teaching my English class until their summer break begins at the end of the month.  The grant I wrote, and which has been approved, is being processed, so I’m just waiting on that money to continue that project.  Both of those things have turned June into a waiting game.  I feel like I’m not being productive at all, but my patience has definitely grown over the past 18 months, so I’ll survive.  In the meantime I’ve been spending quality time with neighbors, turning my front yard into a garden, and getting excited about the start of the World Cup! I figure watching the upcoming matches will be a great way to spend time in my community for the next month!

Finding My New Home

The adventure began at 2am Saturday when the mini-bus company called to tell us that we were the next stop.  We quickly jumped out of bed, changed clothes and zipped our suitcases shut before hurrying down to the hotel lobby where the bus was waiting.  Just 48 hours before, I had awoken in the middle of the night with a rather unfriendly illness, which delayed my departure to Dangila by a day.  I was in the capital city for three nights attending a counterpart workshop, where I had met the HAPCO representative I will be working with just the day before.  On Friday, my counterpart went on to Dangila as planned while I rested up for another day.  Luckily, one of the visiting PCVs was headed past Dangila on her way home, so she stayed with me and made sure I arrived in my new town safely.

Saturday, after circling Addis a couple of times to pick up the rest of the mini-bus passengers, we were finally on the road by 4am.  The bus that could comfortably fit 12 passengers was holding 14 as we snaked through the mountains outside of Addis.  The mixed aroma of gasoline and Ethiopian cologne were circling the small space as the driver's broken window caused me to bundle up tightly in my thin sweatshirt. I dozed off a few times but mostly occupied myself with stargazing into the heavens above.  The pitch-black countryside offered my first sighting of the Southern Cross constellation from Africa.  Those stars, which often gave me comfort during my time spent in Australia, were shining brightly on the southern horizon reminding me that this foreign land is still part of this small world.

The bus drew tight S-shapes as we followed the twisting road near the Blue Nile Gorge. By this point, a bright pink sunrise came to life behind us allowing the ravine to be seen in all its glory.  The Ethiopian woman behind me continued to get sick as a local policeman hopped aboard our bus at the bottom of the gorge just before we crossed over the Blue Nile River.  Our fifteenth passenger held an AK-47 tightly in his arms, so, needless to say, I was not upset when he hopped off at the next town up the road.  As daylight filled the sky, the rolling hills surrounding us were revealed.  The countryside is methodically sectioned into various farms, creating this patchwork appearance across the land.

I was unexplainably calm during most of the ride, but those last 30 minutes brought anxiety as I awaited my arrival in Dangila.  Just about nine hours after leaving Addis I was dropped off in my new home.  The bus worker unloaded my heavy bag from the top of the vehicle and I said goodbye to my PCV friend as my counterpart walked up to meet me.  I felt immediately welcomed as we grabbed a Bajaj (mini-taxi) toward the house where I will be living.  The town appeared to be exactly what I had expected, a small rural town in the rolling hills of Ethiopia.  "Not too cold and not too hot" I had been told, which seems to be the perfect description.  I am still not sure how to describe a small rural town, or how to judge the difference between Dangila and the many other rural towns we passed through, but I think it is fair to say that Dangila is the best.

Just 24-hours after arriving in Dangila I know I am going to like it here.  My counterpart has been so helpful, taking me around to buy a mattress and other household necessities. The children here will quietly gather and snicker as I walk by, and the brave ones yell, "What is your name?" in English, but there are only very few who yell, "Feregni! Ferengi!" as I am accustomed to in Ambo.  As my counterpart introduced me to people around town and translates portions of the conversation, it seems that people are very excited to have me here.

My counterpart and supervisor in the HAPCO office.

There are so many positives about Dangila but I cannot hide the reality that has also hit.  My "house" is not exactly as I was expecting; it is merely two small rooms on the side of a compound which also houses three other families. 


My immediate reaction to panic, that this is not possibly going to suffice as an adequate oasis for two years, had to be muted. And I honestly held back tears when my counterpart informed me that there is no internet in Dangila.  My emotions are spiking through these very difficult changes, but a peaceful rest last night has brought some clarity to my situation.  I joined the Peace Corps thinking I would not have electricity or running water.  The thought of having internet handy was out of the question.  I realize that I have built expectations since being in Ethiopia though.  All the volunteers currently here have electricity, and some sort of semi-regular running water at least.  Ambo, where I have been living for six weeks, has fairly reliable (although painfully slow) internet at over five separate locations.  This knowledge, plus some additional "facts" I had heard about Dangila have caused minor disappointment, but I am willing to redefine "normal" once again.

Bi-monthly trips to a nearby town with internet will serve as an adventure I figure, and I will create that oasis I need in the space provided.  This whole experience needs to be grounding and uncomfortable; I need to realize my dependence on material items.  I also know that I am here for a reason.  A timely letter opened last night reminded me of that: "He put you where you need to be and He will protect you, give you strength, and provide the resources you need."  For now, that place is Dangila, and I know God will provide me with the rest.