Bump in the Night

When I was preparing for Peace Corps, one of the things I read over and over were about problems with rats. It freaked me out a little. I packed cat treats and hoped for the best. I’ve lived at site now for 18 months, listening with a sympathetic ear to my fellow volunteers who struggle with rats. I thought I lucked out.

Then, after returning from a two-week trip, I had a suspicion something wasn’t right. At night, when I turned out the lights, I heard a scratching, chewing noise. The back of my mind said rats, while the rest insisted it was nothing.

Two nights later, I awoke to a crash. I thought maybe it was my neighbors, but the back of my mind told me again that it was rats. That morning, I found my candle stick laying on the floor. Coincidence? Maybe it just fell.

Then I found hard evidence. A piece of fruit was sitting on my counter with its flesh half-exposed. Little pieces of the skin were laying all around it, and there were trails of dust bunnies on the counter. Closer inspection of the fruit revealed flat-edged teeth marks. The optimistic side of me said it could have been a mouse. The back of my mind said rats. I searched around for more evidence, but found nothing. I tried to forget the incident, hoping that the critter had moved on.

Just around dusk, when it was time to close the doors and windows, I saw a grey body with a distinct snake-like tail float across my floor. No more lies, no more guessing. It was definately a rat. I got the broom and  thought perhaps I could chase it out. Instead, it disappeared thorugh the narrow space between my bed and the floor.

All I could think to do was call my landlord, who lives next door. He came right over with a stick and moved my bed. The rat came scurrying out and headed straight toward my feet. I screamed. Then it darted under another door. Unfortunately it was a locked door to which we didn’t have the key.

The next step, my landlord brought over a trap. He toasted some bread to create an alluring scent. We set up a table and some boxes around to help guide it toward the trap. And I waited. By 7:30 it was dark and I was losing hope. I closed my door and resigned myself to the idea that I’d be spending the night with a rat. 

Around 8:30, a friend called. I was just about to lament my troubles to her, when I heard a loud snap. I hung up the phone and called my landlord. I listened to the painful sounds of struggle, and then silence. My landlord showed up within minutes and inspected. Sure enough, the rat was caught. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and thanked him about a hundred times.

This whole fiasco was over so quickly. I have many Peace Corps friends who have ongoing struggles with rats. They find rat-torn packages, chewed up plastic and entrails everywhere. To them, I salute. Peace Corps is not easy.

Green Honey

The honey merchant removing bees. He laughed when I took this. “After one year,” he said, “and now you need my picture?”

Ethiopia is well-known for a few things, honey being one of them. Farmers will hang homemade hives in the trees of the forests, and depending on what flowers are around, all different types of honey will emerge. Each region has their own special flavors.

There is one shop in town I usually buy my honey from. Most of the time they have red or white. The white is thick and opaque, and deliciously sweet. The red is translucent and has a very distinct flavor, I can’t really describe it. Today, there was a third option. It was neon green.

I was skeptical to try this third option; anything that is neon green usually means something went wrong. But I trust my honey guy, and he poured some into a cup for me and the other customers to try. I’ll attest, this new kind of honey was something all together different. It was delicious, as all honey is here. I can’t help but wonder what kinds of flowers these bees were visiting. I gave him my little plastic container and asked for a kilo.

I love watching the honey shop as they pour their orders. Bees are flocking around like it’s their very own hive and they are desperate to get back in. As the honey folds into the container, the bees sometimes get too close and take a dive into their own sticky creation. When a kilo has been weighed out, the shop owner takes a small spoon and dips it in to carefully remove the bees. I think at first this may have grossed me out, thinking about insects being in something I’m about to eat. Now, I just marvel at the nature of the whole experience. This isn’t honey that’s been processed and packed and shipped across the world. This is from bees that are flying around me and flowers that are in the forests near my home. It’s a flavor so unique I can’t even describe it, and it’s certainly not something that can be duplicated.

Teaching Girls to GLOW

Camp GLOW, Nekemte, Ethiopia

Last week, 34 girls came together from seven different communities for a life-changing experience I will never forget.Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a camp for girls organized by Peace Corps volunteers  all over the world. This year, I worked with 10 other volunteers to create a Camp GLOW in  Nekemte, Ethiopia. This camp comprised of 9th and 10th grade girls from the southwest regions of the country. For most of them, it was their first time ever leaving home.

The camp started Sunday when we all gathered at the university. It took many of us several hours by bus to arrive. As the girls began meeting, they were mostly silent. They simply stared, uncertain and shy.

The first day, we organized them all into rooms and assigned each an animal group: Eagles, Elephants, Lions and Monkeys. A few counslers were assigned to each group and the process of getting to know each other began.

Sunday night was a lot of figuring out logistics and setting the ground rules. The girls got pink tote bags with journals and a few toiletries. They were given journal prompts every night and wrote in them just before bed.

During journal time, counslers met to discuss the upcoming day. We had programming all planned out weeks ahead of time. Still, life throws out obstacles and plans change. We hung giant charts on the wall for each day and had cards with each session taped on. Cards were switched around like a puzzle as we discussed what was working, what wasn’t, and what the realities of our time were. Contingincies were planned on top of contingincies. And even those changed.

Camp days started early and ended late, and each was filled with different events. There were skits on peer pressure, “girl talk” about sexual health, games to teach about HIV and some games just for fun. We had sessions to practice leadership and how to build teamwork. We taught about fuel-efficient cooking methods and learned how to plant trees. We had crafts to make useful items, and crafts that were just for fun. We had a day to visualize the future, created goals and planned out how to take lessons from camp back home. The last night was a giant bonfire, where the girls had their first taste of s’mores and wrote inspiring messages to each other in their journals. We sang songs, gave awards and recognized everyone for their hard work.

There is so much that can be said about this camp. The girls who started out so silent and shy were raising their hands to be leaders by the end. Girls who could mindlessly recite the use of condoms in HIV prevention actually saw one for the first time, and learned how to properly use it. They discovered first-hand the power of believing in yourself and had an opportunity to ask questions they never could before. It was overwhelming to see the transformation in every single one of them.

With all of the great things that came out of this camp, you’d think it went off without a hitch. That, however, could not be further from the truth. The latrines we had to use were up a muddy hill and covered in filth, our meal plans fell through, it rained at all the wrong times and we were out of running water for three days. I fell in the mud, twice, and got locked in a room for over an hour.  There were three different languages being spoken and time was consistantly misjudged.

Yet despite the setbacks, every counsler remained calm, optomistic and helpful. Problem-solving was an ongoing skill and everyone pulled together with enthusiasm. Honestly, the patient teamwork of every counsler was inspiring. And we couldn’t have done alone. Four Ethiopian counterparts, as well as three junior counslers, were indespensible. It was one miraculous team putting on one miraculous event. And it was truely unforgettable.

If you’d like to see the camp in action, here’s a link to some photos:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100298431338561.2388771.56008677&type=1&l=e3b11fe1cb

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.