Baking and Plumbers

It’s about Christmastime… Two weeks, right? You could have fooled me. (Where does the time go?!) In my bright and sunny Muslim town, very few things say “Christmas” around here. I do have a little tree that helps, and some occasional iPod jams to invoke the spirit. I also made a grand attempt at baking yesterday. Mind you, we have no ovens. This endeavor was dutch oven-esque, using a big pot, some rocks and a smaller pot. I’m happy to say the event was a success. The best part was giving it away. Common as it may seem, banana bread is a novel treat here.

And speaking of cooking endeavors, I also made my first burgers yesterday. This is big for me. I’m not really a meat person in general, and especially not when you have to see the hanging carcass as you buy it. But I did it. And I’m not going to lie, it was an experiment. But I think they were OK. Peace Corps goal #3 is sharing American culture with Ethiopia, so I invited a habesha friend over to try them. And… he may or may not have eaten them to appease me.

The other fun news going on here is that I moved to a new house. Still in Agaro, just down the hill. The place is cute and cozy and I love it. Except for the plumbing. I was really excited to get an actual bathroom with a toilet, but I’ve learned to be careful what I wish for. After five appointments with the plumber (a term I use loosely), my toilet is still quite broken. The original problem was flushing… the new problem is leaking. A constant drip fills buckets on the hour. Guess I can’t complain about no water.

Welcome to Agaro

There were tourists in my town yesterday! I was walking with a friend, when three farenjis stepped out of a jeep. I’m not used to seeing other white people in Agaro, so I was very Ethiopian-like in my curiousity.  I assumed they were from some NGO in Jimma, the next biggest town over. Nope! Turns out, they were French tourists. Tourists. Meaning they weren’t here to try and fix anything. They weren’t here for research. They were merely here to see the town, and the beautiful birthplace of coffee.

I found this video, randomly, while working on my Community Needs Assesment. I couldn’t quite get it all to load here with my speedy cdma internet, but thought it might be fun to post anyway. It’s centered on the main streets of town. The rural areas not shown are where the lush, green beauty is… but I love this town. All of it.

A Letter Home

Tefash! I know, you lost me. I probably warned you, I’m pretty bad at keeping a blog. I’m good at writing letters though! Which is why I’ve decided to forgo the posta bet and post my latest letter home. (Mom, Dad, Cassie.. this was to you.) It’s the best update I can give you with limited time. I hope to have better internet access in November. Until then, please write! I have my very own P.O. Box (listed on the side) and I promise, I always write back.

Hi guys!
I’m sort of cheating on this letter and addressing it to all of you, since I find myself repeating a lot of stuff… or forgetting who I told what to. So… how is life? Fill me in. Please🙂

I’m still living and breathing here in Agaro, 8 degrees latitude and 37 degrees longitude. The most recent of news is that my Muslim family opened their brand new cafe. They now have two, but the new one is in the tall, modern building in town and serves food with a menu! It’s hard to paint an accurate picture of this without some sort of background to compare it to, but this is pretty novel for Agaro. Jafar, the brother, mainly runs it and I’m so proud of him. Plus, they treat me like family, so it’s fun to be a part of it all.

It’s been rainy here today, which means bizu ch’ika (a lot of mud). I get my big Keen kickers on and am grateful for them everyday. Actually, there’s a lot of gratitude going on here. For instance, for my bug net. Have I mentioned yet how grateful I am to have this beautiful white-netted aura protecting me from all things creepy and crawly? That goes in hand with my fly swatter, which allows me to conduct bug combat at a safe distance from leaping retaliation. Then of course there’s the third tier of my battle: roach spray. I’m pretty sure I’m subjecting myself to cancer with this stuff, but it’s keeping me sane. At least, mostly sane. I see moving things in the corner of my eyes now that I’ll chalk up to bug paranoia.

And from bug killing we move on to beg killing. (That’s sheep in Amharic.) A few mornings ago we got a sheep. I’ve been around long enough to know that sheep here are not pets. The question was really, when. I got my answer when I stepped out my door to no less than 11 vultures, hovering on the roof and chilling in our yard. I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen a vulture, but they’re the size of a small child. Maybe even a large child. At first I was confused, thinking maybe they came for the dog who is quite literally on his last leg. Then I turned the corner and saw our skinless sheep hanging upside-down from the tree. (Dad, I’ll take your deer in the garage for that, any day.) But no worries, we’ve already got another bleating sheep to replace it, sitting on death row. I’m really glad I’m not a sheep in this world. (And there is another bit of gratitude for you.)

Something a little less Africa here, I’ve got five seasons of How I Met Your Mother on hard drive. Man that show is funny. It brings me back home for 20 minutes at a time. Except, have you ever noticed how much food they have on that show? I swear, Robin is eating ice cream every other episode. I hate her. Also Cass, I have a few seasons of Mad Men. I haven’t started them yet, but I’ll let you know when I do. To be honest, I read a lot more than anything. I’m getting through a lot of good books. Which reminds me, if you have any old magazines you want to send, I’d love to read them. I guarantee they’ll be news to me.

Alright, well that’s all I’ve got for now! I’m off to meet some friends for coffee. Love and miss you all!

XOXO Katie

T.I.A.

Initially, it’s all a little overwhelming. Agaro is a deep green town filled with coffee, mango, papaya, bananas, guavas and other fruit trees. This green landscape requires water. Mosquitoes love this. I’ve spent an unreasonable amount of time this morning hunting my 8 by 8 foot room for the source of that skin-crawling, high-pitched hum. I did however, sleep very soundly last night. Mosquito nets are the shit. I can’t believe part of my job is promoting them. These things sell themselves.

I arrived yesterday in Agaro, which was chosen to be my site of 2-year service. The bus ride was 9 hours from Addis. Having heard enough horrific Ethiopian bus experiences, I was sufficiently terrified. We rose at 3 a.m. to start the journey and loaded the bus at Mercado station around 7. I was nestled tightly between an older woman and my counterpart. It wasn’t luxuriously comfortable, but my bags were safely loaded and I felt confident my experience had defied the norm. Half-way through our high-speed winding adventure, the woman next to me realized her undisclosed motion sickness. She inevitably vomited her injera breakfast on the floor in front of us. The bus got hotter, the people got sweatier. I was officially inducted into the Ethiopian bus experience.

Now that I’m here, I get 3 days to check out the town, open a bank account and set up my P.O. Box. Then it’s back to my training site (and yes, back on the bus) for six weeks. I’m training in Huruta with a host family, who takes care of me like I’m their own. Shito, Gemechu and their 3 daughters have already secured a permanent place in my heart. During training, language classes run 8 hours a day. Simultaneously, we immerse ourselves in culture and Ethiopian life. This means walking the dirt roads amongst donkeys, sheep and goats, washing our clothes by hand, and never forgetting to bring our toilet paper with us to the shint bet.  T.his I.s A.frica.

The List

As I fervently try to pack for this two-year adventure, I’ve become obsessed with packing lists. What did other volunteers bring? What did they not bring? What do they wish they’d have brought?

For the sake of everyone else who struggles, and those who are curious what I’ll be living with for the next two years, here’s what I’ve got:

Luggage:
North Face Base Camp Duffel (Large)
Kelty Coyote hiking backpack (4500 cu)
Jansport Backpack

Sleep:
Mountain Hardware Switch 20 sleeping bag
Pillow
Earplugs
Unisom
Melatonin

Kitchen:
GSI Outdoors Pinnacle Frypan–8in
Plastic Spatula
Measuring cups/spoons
Peeler
Can opener
Kitchen knife
Oven Mitt/Pot holder
Water bottle

Food:
Herbs&Spices
-Basil
-Black Pepper
-Oregano
-Thyme
-Cinnamon
-Nutmeg
-Stirfry seasoning
-Teriyaki seasoning
-Brown Mustard
Crystal Light flavor packets
Tuna packets
Nature Valley Granola bars
Godiva Dark Chocolate Squares
Stride Sweetmint gum (12packs)

Useful stuff:
Leatherman  knife
Index cards
Duct tape
Brunton Solo Battery Pack (charger) and batteries
Petzl Tikkina 2 Headlamp
Mini-mag Flashlight and bulbs
Scissors

Technology/media:
Dell Inspiron mini netbook
External hard drive (with movies)
Olympus digital camera
8G iPod Nano/armband
Earbuds (4)
Portable Speakers
Currency Converter (220/110v)

Pest Control:
Cat treats
Fly swatter

Health:
Eye drops
Resistance bands
Yoga mat
Enteric-coated peppermint oil

Hygiene:
Sea To Summit Tek Towel-Large (quick dry)
Venus razor/refill cartridges
Shampoo/Conditioner
Hair ties
 Face wash wipes (120) /SPF Face lotion
Deodorant (4)
Bath and Body Works body spray
Pumice/foot scrubber
Nail clippers
Tweezers
Floss/toothpaste/toothbrush
Q-tips/Cotton balls
Wet wipes
Tampons

Host family gifts:
Post cards
Fabric wall flags (2)
America Playing Cards
Suckers
Balloons
Deflated soccer ball

Entertainment:
Notebooks
Pens/Pencils
Crayons
Frisbee
Playing cards
Books
Seeds

Clothing:
Skirts (2)
Dress/Skirt convertible
Dress (hand sewn by my very dear friend)
Dress for staging/swearing-in
Fitted shirts (4)
T-shirts (3)
Linen Pants
Dry-wick Pants
Jeans
Yoga Capris (2)
Long-sleeve zip up (2)
Carhart Zip Hoodie
Underwear (14)
Socks (12)
Bras (2)
Sportsbra (3)

Rainwear:
North Face Resolve Waterproof Jacket
Umbrella

Footwear:
Chacos (ZX/2 Vibram Unaweep)
Chacos (Flip Ecotread)
Keen Pyronese waterproof hiking boots
Trail running shoes
Ballet flat dress shoes

Now.. I haven’t tried to actually pack all of this yet. I’ve got an 80-pound limit here. Some of the food may have to wait, and the kitchen stuff may need to be sent separate, but I’m hoping to spare the $45 mailing fee. Wish me luck!

Let’s Talk

I got a message from the Peace Corps office today, making this adventure all the more real. In addition to training information, there’s a section they wrote up especially for you. Here’s the gist of it:

Letters
The mail service in Ethiopia is not as efficient as the U.S. Postal Service.  It can take 3-4 weeks for letters from Ethiopia to get to the States.  And if I’m assigned to a small faraway village, it could take 1-2 months to reach you. If you date your letters to me (and number them) I can let you know how long it takes for me to get them.

Packages
These are not guaranteed to reach me, but current volunteers have said they haven’t had a problem. Don’t send anything too expensive. Electronics have extremely high custom taxes, so please don’t send any. Padded envelopes are often taxed less than boxes, if you can opt for those. Care packages will probably be a little piece of heaven, so thanks ahead of time. Here’s the address again:

Katie Olean, PCV
U.S. Peace Corps
P.O. Box 7788
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Also they said cash and checks are not recommended through the mail. (bummer.) If you send a postcard, please put it in an envelope. If you don’t, some postal worker will likely have a new picture for their wall. 

Phone Calls
To get some actual voice conversations, it’s possible to call my cell phone (number to come). However, there’s a part about how difficult it is to get through and you may need to call 5-10 times in a row, even if it says I’m “out of the service area.” There’s always Skype… although I haven’t given it a practice run yet. And who knows how internet will be.

The Fun Stuff
Then there was a little section on my possible “war stories,” by which they mean illness , lack of good food, isolation, etc. They assure you it’s never as bad as it sounds, and we have a doctor and physician’s assistant on staff in Addis Ababa. If it’s really bad, we’ll be medically evacuated to Kenya, South Africa or the United States. (Let’s not hope for that.)

So that’s about it. I love you all forever for reading this and sending me letters when I get there. I promise, I’ll write you all back. Two weeks to go!

Wait… you’re what?!

In case this comes as a surprise, I’ve joined the Peace Corps. Many of you are wondering (several of you out loud) if I’ve lost my mind. I promise you, this was all well thought out.

Perhaps sometime during the hundreds of application questions, I may have had my doubts. But as I contacted my references and worked on my essay questions, I was incredibly certain. I was so certain, that I didn’t waste a minute getting my fingers printed by the sheriff or filling out the requested background check. I was eager to hop on the train and travel an hour into New York City for an interview.  I shrieked with excitement when I was nominated for Central/South America. I showed equal enthusiasm when my nomination was changed to the Caribbean. I opened wide for my dental exams as each tooth was measured and each x-ray was taken. I dutifully researched and tracked down a VA to do my medical exams. When my car was not allowed on the military premise, I parked in the lot and marched all the way across the base to see a doctor. (Three times.) I was poked with 4 needles and gave 10 viles of blood. I cried when the doctor told me I was HIV positive. A week later, I confidently shouted when she said it was a mistake. I came back to Minnesota and sat across from a psychologist to prove my sanity. (Everything was clear.) I mailed in forms and sat in an abyss of waiting. And waiting. And waiting. My heart dropped when I discovered my medical clearance had taken too long for a Caribbean invitation. I waited longer. I made more phone calls. I felt a surge of excitement as I learned my medical was finally clear. And I practiced more waiting.

I was standing with my mom in the isle of Wal-mart when the Peace Corps called. The woman asked very few questions. Quite abruptly I was told I’d be receiving an invitation to serve as an HIV/AIDS volunteer for sub-Saharan Africa. (“sub-Saharn where??”)

It was 2 weeks later when I finally opened the envelope and held in my hands the piece of gold I had waited an entire gestation period for:  An invitation to serve in Ethiopia.

So, I assure you I’ve had plenty of time to think this over. I’ve had plenty of time to research, and plenty of time to back out. (Not an ounce of my soul wants to.) As my dad has says, the Peace Corps is just me. And I couldn’t think of doing anything else.