Four Months of Madness

There are times in Peace Corps when I can sit in my room and listen to the mosque calling, the birds chirping, and the music blaring from the café across from my house. I can stare at my wall, write, read a book, do yoga, and stare at my wall some more.

Then there are times when I’m swooped up by a whirlwind of projects, events and what we so frequently refer to  here as ‘programs.’ The last four months have been part of that whirlwind.

It all started in April with the celebration of World Malaria Day. This yearly event was celebrated by the Ethiopian government in a small village near my house. One of my Program Assistants traveled down from Addis to attend. We spent the first day in Jimma, listening to research results and project outcomes from organizations around the nation. Then we traveled to a rural village for a tour of a local health post and to learn about the process of residual spraying. As we drove up the road, hundreds of kids lined the street clapping and cheering for us. It felt like the welcoming of royalty.

After the tour, the local people had tables set up with a variety of traditional foods to taste. It was a huge event for the rural women, and it was fun to see their excitement.

On the last of the 3-day celebration, chairs were lined under a tent in a field, and numerous people participated in music, speeches, dramas and acrobatics to spread the word for anti-malarial efforts. We came home with a T-shirt, and a small container of locally-made mosquito repellent.

The next big event was in May. A few volunteers and I designed and led a 5-day facilitation workshop for 29 female lecturers from 3 universities. The training was part of the University Preparation Camp project that I’ve been working on over the past year, helping to support first-year female university students. Originally, two Peace Corps Volunteers and I were in charge of leading student trainings. Our new objective was to give teachers the skills and confidence to facilitate discussions on their own. The training was centered on 11 topics, including self-esteem, leadership, reproductive health and HIV/AIDS.

I came to the training expecting a group of shy, reserved Ethiopian women. Instead, I was met with a group of engaged, thought-provoking  leaders. The women were inspiring.

Next was our Close-of-Service conference, which started May 27. Close-of Service. That means that the 5th group of Peace Corps volunteers who came to Ethiopia two years ago are preparing to go home.

The G5 Jimma Loopers (minus Chelsea and Laura)

Our group came in with 69 volunteers, and lost about a third of them along the way. The surviving members met in Addis and proceeded down to Lake Langano for one last week of memories. Our sessions focused on job searching and readjusting. Our free time consisted of Whiffle ball, beer pong, massages and relaxing by the pool. On our last night, we celebrated with a bon fire and sheep roast, a guitar around the fire, and sharing all of the embarrassing and hilarious experiences we’ve had.

Directly after COS, I traveled with 8 spectacular volunteer friends to visit The Once-Forbidden City of Harrar.

After Harrar, I had three days to kill in Addis while I waited for my friend Amanda to fly in from America. I thought perhaps I would use these days to take it easy and rest up. Instead, I stayed with a friend and had two adventurous nights at big parties, and re-visited a lesson I learned too many times in college.

Amanda flew in Sunday morning, and we went straight from the airport to Mercado. (Mercado = sketchy, crowded bus station) She jumped right into the Ethiopian experience by having to bum-rush a bus and fight for a seat, then sit for hours while the bus stopped a hundred times along the way for ch’at.  We made it to Agaro by nightfall.

The next three days were spent touring my little town, trying the food and participating in a coffee ceremony at a local teacher’s house. It was everything I loved about Ethiopia, and it was fun to be able to share it.

The last part of her trip included a visit to Hawassa, a beautiful lake-side city in Ethiopia. It was a 15-hour journey from Agaro, and we made it all in one day. (She’s a total champ.)

In Hawassa, we visited the fish market, hand-fed some monkeys, laid out by the infinity pool and ate a lot of good food. During her stay, the Ethiopian soccer team beat South Africa for a spot in the World Cup Tournament and the whole city paraded in excitement.

Her 10-day visit was over far too soon.

I’m back in Agaro now, and it’s been non-stop camp-planning mode ever since. Tomorrow I leave for this year’s Nekempte Camp GLOW. (Camp GLOW 2012 ). And yesterday I found out I have amoebas.

There’s certainly never a dull moment here.

The Once-Forbidden City of Harrar

Harrar is an ancient walled city near the border of Somalia, and until a few months ago was off-limits for Peace Corps Volunteers. Now that we’re allowed to travel there freely, we jumped at the opportunity. It’s a 10-hour bus ride from Addis, so only four of us braved the road; the other five decided to fly. When we all arrived, the first thing we did was head out to see the infamous hyena man.

Just on the outskirts of the city, a man emerges from his house every night at dusk. He lures out hyenas with scraps of raw meat, and teaches visitors how to feed them by mouth. At first, the idea seems insane. The first sights of a hyena up close are strange and exciting. They’re like some spotted mix of cat, dog and bear, lurking in the darkness.

The longer we watched, the more we saw their timid side. Surrounded by people, these hyenas were way out of their element. They cautiously emerged from the shadows, swiped the meat, and ran back into the darkness. All nine of us stepped up, and all nine of us kept our faces.

Our next mission was camels. About an hour outside the city of Harrar is a town called Bilbile. Twice a week, Bilbile hosts a camel market where thousands of camels are collected for buying and selling. We arrived a little late, so we saw maybe a hundred camels. Average price for a camel: 20,000 birr (over $1,000). We got up close, took pictures, then walked down to the tents where they were serving camel milk. I shared a cup with two other people. I thought it was a little smoky. A few sips were enough for me.

Bilbile is also known for their natural sparkling water, and the “Valley of the Marvels,” which are a few giant rocks balanced naturally on small pedestals. It was interesting, but not quite worthy of the term marvelous.

After Bilbile, we decided to go back to Harrar and try the camel meat. Looking like tourists inside the old walled city, a young girl ambitiously offered to help. She led us to the butcher shop where you buy the raw camel meat, and we pitched in to buy a kilo. She then led us through the narrow paths to a small shop with two tiny benches and handed the meat over to a woman behind the counter. The shop was hot and clammy, and filled with flies. In 20 minutes, the camel meat came out on a pile of injera. We timidly dipped in, and fed ourselves the chewy meat. Nothing spectacular. Not entirely delicious. Just meat piled on injera. I don’t think any of us were too thrilled, and we ended up leaving the majority on the plate. Then the bill came. It was in the form of a round number that made our jaws drop. Clearly the girl wasn’t helping out of the kindness of her heart. She saw dollar signs in place of our faces. There was no arguing the price though, after it was cooked. Rookie mistake. We forked over her exorbitant fee.

So I had enough of the walled city for one day, and met the rest of our group out for a beer. The beers were served in mugs with the logo of Ato Condom. (Mr. Condom, that is.) He’s shaped like a condom and has a big thumbs-up to support using protection. What a fantastic place to advertise.

Our third day was a visit to the infamous beer factory. Among Peace Corps Volunteers, Hakim Stout is the favorite of Ethiopian Beers. It’s brewed in Harrar, along with a few other varieties. If you want to tour the factory, we were warned to wear close-toed shoes. Unfortunately, I never wear close-toed shoes.

When we got to the gates, we read the sign: Must Wear Shoes. We considered sandals shoes, but the guy at the gate didn‘t. Christina, our ever-most persistent volunteer, insisted that we speak to the manager. A few minutes later we were walking up the stairs to a cushy office with a big desk. A lady sat behind the desk and made small talk for awhile. She then asked our shoe size and brought out three boxes of shoes. “Don’t tell your friends about this,” she warned with a smile.

After our brief tour with a spirited guide, we were informed that it was time to try the beer and we were to invite him. We agreed, and it was as fresh as you’d expect. Half-way through the beer, our brazen guide informed us that we should also invite him to lunch. Though it was only 11 a.m., Paul conceded to share some t’ibs.

A little while later we were back in the walled city, this time on the hunt for Shities, or what we Americans like to call Muumuus. The fabrics in Harrar are plentiful, colorful, and completely affordable. I bought two.

Best. Decision. Ever.  You wouldn’t believe how comfortable they are. And it’s the hot fashion in Harrar. Almost every woman you see is wearing one.

On our last day, we decided to have a photo shoot and wear them to dinner. It was loud and fabulous.

Harrar just might be my favorite city in Ethiopia yet.