How to Save a Life

I’m pretty sure my previous posts have updated y’all on how fanatic I am about my mosquito net. It’s my little wall of protection from all that goes buzz in the night. Unfortunately not everyone realizes the awe-inspiring power that it is. People here die every day from malaria; it’s the number one killer in Africa. The President’s Malaria Initiative (PMI) and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) work continuously to distribute nets, but the number of people actually using them is still too low. And that’s unfortunate, because one child dies every 45 seconds from a disease that could be prevented.

I did a training yesterday with a group of students about malaria and bed net usage. All of the students reported having bed nets, but less than half raised their hands to say they use them. We made a poster both in English and Amharic to highlight six important facts about malaria, and read them each aloud.

1. Malaria is a preventable disease that can kill you.
2. Malaria is transmitted by a specific type of mosquito that primarily bites at night.
3. Malaria symptoms are: fever, headache, chills, vomiting and other flu-like symptoms.
4. Malaria should be treated at the health center immediately.
5. Mosquito nets prevent malaria.
6. Everyone should sleep under a mosquito net, every night, all year long.

Afterwards we had a discussion and answered questions. One girl asked me about malaria in America. I told her–with the utmost encouragement–that malaria used to be a problem there, but it was eliminated through the use of bed nets, medicines and insecticides. We can do the same in Africa, if everyone takes part.

I asked them again how many will use their bed nets and almost everyone raised their hands. (The others requested help, and we planned a follow-up training on how to hang a net.) Wiping out malaria is a large and overwhelming ambition. But if even one of these kids decides to sleep under a mosquito net tonight, we’re making progress.

April 25 is World Malaria Day. Celebrate. Spread the word.

Sunday Dinner

Earlier this week I was approached by someone in town who wanted to talk. We had coffee, and by the end of the week I had met half his extended family and spent an entire Sunday having dinner at their house. I realize from an American standpoint, this seems rather strange. Maybe downright creepy. Here, it’s a part of life. Ethiopians have an amazing knack for hospitality and I’m consistently touched by their generosity. Though we’re separated by race, religion, language and ethnicity, I’ve never felt so close to family.
(And yep.. that’s a fridge in the background. Some families have it made!)

All before noon…

1. Woke up to a mosque’s call to prayer

2. Convinced 2 guys that discussing my weight is not an appropriate topic of conversation

3. Picked mangoes from a tree in my yard

4. Shook some eggs at market to see if they’re rotten

5. Ran from a crazy (or drunk?) guy asking for money

6. Recieved two limes as a gift from a farmer

7. Sat down with locals for a cup of fresh-roasted coffee

8. Planned a life skills training for a local Anti-AIDS club

9. Shooed a cow out of my yard

10. Wrote a blog entry on the craziness of life here

Sleeping with the enemy

I tried to convince myself these itchy bumps were mosquito bites. I really hoped mosquitoes were somehow infiltrating my net.  I can kid myself no more. Two days ago I spotted a leaping little speck on my bed. Later on I found another on my leg. Closer inspection confirmed my fears: I have fleas. I don’t know how these unwelcome little house guests made their way in, but they’re officially ruining my night’s sleep. Every little tickle sends me scrambling to the flashlight for inspection. Of course it’s futile since they’re almost microscopic and can leap over a foot. The only proof that I’m not going crazy are the tiny little bumps all over my feet and ankles. Their size is misleading: They itch like a bitch. Naturally I turned straight to Google for more information. The leading advice: Get an exterminator. I can say with straight certainty I won’t be finding one of those anywhere around here. So.. I guess I’m feeding a family of fleas for awhile. And another little fun bit of info:  They carry Typhus. I know a few volunteers in my group who have already had it. If the itching doesn’t keep me up at night, the thought of contracting Typhus will. I’m almost positive this will be one of those funny Peace Corps stories to look back on… almost.

Growing

I have no urgent desire to be a parent or have kids. (Sorry Mom.) And my recent effort to adopt a kitten lasted one day. Here’s my last attempt at being responsible for a living thing. Since they won’t be peeing in my house or dragging raw meat under my bed, I’m feeling optimistic. 

Be grateful your laundry day doesn’t look like this…

When my clothes get dirty (which inevitably happens here quickly) I have 2 options. One: Go around town in search of someone who wants to make a few extra birr, set an appointment for them to come to my house, and wait for that person who may or may not show up. Possibly repeat.  Or two: Get out the buckets and start scrubbing.

I’m sure you’re probably thinking option two sounds simpler. My guess is, you’ve never had to wash a whole load of clothes by hand before. This is my most loathed chore, and if nothing else, has taught me what a miraculous invention washing machines are.

A Carnivore’s Dilemma

The dish of choice for fasting season.

It’s been awhile, so I’m trying to resist a lengthy 3 month update and instead fill you in on a current issue.

As most of you know it’s Lent right now… meatless Fridays for practicing Catholics. Here, the Ethiopian Orthodox Christians take Lent a bit further by making every day Friday. No meat, no animal products… strictly vegan for two months. I’m not Orthodox, but my lack of veil means everyone generally assumes or accepts that I’m Christian. Being a non-Orthodox Christian, I don’t need to fast. Apparently though, I do need to pay attention to the symbols outside of restaurants. A look of shock and hurt came over my poor Orthodox friend’s face when I told him where I had my lunch. I guess I missed the crescent moon and star outside. It was a Muslim place, and Christians do not eat Muslim meat.

I feel bad for disappointing my friend, and for the confusion that I probably sent around town. At the same time, I feel unfairly held to their religious expectations. Meat is meat in my religion. Should I pretend that it’s not? Boycott all the Muslim restaurants in town for some fake display of Christianity? I respect their culture in every way possible (just check out the farmer’s tan on these shoulders!) but this is one issue I’m drawn on. Rumors fly here faster than Hollywood. Do I apologize for my oversight and refrain from Muslim restaurants? Or do I follow my own heart in not pretending?

Honestly, I’ll probably avoid Muslim meat from now on; I don’t like it enough to face the drama. But it’s got me thinking: Where do we draw the line between adapting to culture and following our own beliefs? Isn’t pretending, in a way, also a lie?